


Maelstrom

by RiverofWords



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Drama, F/M, Lizzington - Freeform, Red/Lizzie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:39:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverofWords/pseuds/RiverofWords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie comes to Red as her life begins to unravel...can she come to terms with her feelings for him and will she accept him once he reveals to her what the FBI did not?</p><p>Slight AU as I started this early on in the series and subsequent episodes went a different direction. Multiple chapters, but the story has been completed.</p><p>See Ch. 1 notes for warnings about content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: While this is my first foray into The Blacklist fandom, it isn't my first fanfic. I began writing this after the episode that ended where this begins, on Red's sofa with liquor and a sunset. It is AU because the show diverged from my vision and may be slightly out of character because of how early in the show I started. In my universe, Liz and Red are not related and therefore can get up to all kinds of crazy stuff. There is mention of 9/11 in passing later in the fic, so if that offends or serves as a trigger you may want to pass. There is graphic sex, some language, and vivd imagery of violence...if you don't like it then you may want to pass.
> 
> If you're still with me, I hope you enjoy the story and comments and/or constructive criticism are welcome. Though I will be posting in chapters, the story is complete. This is not beta'd and therefore all mistakes are mine.
> 
> None of the characters are mine, I just borrowed them for a while.

Red sat on the sofa and stared out the window. Lizzie was here and it was obvious to him that she had found his gift to her. While he understood that the contents of that file would hurt her, something that he hated doing, he knew that presenting this information to her in small doses before the adoption went through would be far less painful for her. He poured her a drink and held it out to her as she approached him. A frown tugged at the edges of his mouth as he took in her tear streaked face. He observed her for a moment and knew that one wrong move on his part and she would be back out the door as quickly as she came. She paused, standing before him, then took the drink from his hands. His breathing stilled, his skin tingled where her fingers ghosted along the length of his as she withdrew the glass. Regaining his bearings, he settled back into the sofa and gazed out the window waiting to see what she would do.

"I don't even know why I'm here..."

He could feel the tension in her body ebb as she settled on the other end of the couch and didn't want to impede the progress they were making, so he remained still. His eyes took in the beauty of the sun filtering through the trees, his body still angled away from her position opposite him, and he commented on the view he so loved. He turned his gaze upon her, eyes drinking in how the light of the golden hour fell upon her face, highlighting her hair and the dried tears shed earlier.

"Lizzie..."

"There's nothing to say, Red. I probably shouldn't have come."

"It's no imposition. I'll help in any way I can, even if it's just sitting here watching the sun set in silence. Stay as long as you want."

Red tilted his head as he watched her put the glass on the table and move the papers from the sofa. She stretched and laid down, resting her head on the couch next to his thigh, legs bent over the arm. Taken by surprise, he wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Tentatively he placed his hand on her head, then let his fingers toy with her locks which seemed to calm her. Red had heard the hitch in her voice when she spoke, but knew why she had come to him in her moment of crisis even if it wasn't yet apparent to her. Liz trusted few people and had few friends, but she always had one person to lean on and confide in. Until recently, that person was her husband and now even he couldn't be trusted. She had no one now and was seeking that much needed confidant. Fortunately, he had come to her in time to gain her trust before her life started to unravel and now she was here with him where he could protect and comfort her.

"Can I ask you something?"

His fingers stilled as she turned to look up at him, then continued as he responded. "As an agent?"

She turned all the way on to her back and folded her hands on her torso.

"Funny you should ask...no. Just as two people, two friends having a conversation."

His mouth quirked into a smile. "Of course, what do you want to know?"

"What do your friends call you?"

"Everyone calls me Red. Even you."

"My point exactly. And no one who calls you that do you consider a friend."

"Not entirely true, Lizzie."

"Regardless, that name comes with expectations, judgements and a reputation." 

She got up and plopped down on the cushion next to him, turning to face him. He angled his body towards her and rested his arm along the back of the sofa where he could still toy with her hair. 

"I don't know what this is between us or even how to feel about it, but I can't do this and call you Red."

"I see." 

His thoughts focused in on his life before he became a criminal mastermind. His wife, daughter and a domesticity that seemed a lifetime ago. His daughter calling him Daddy, holding his pinky and skipping beside him as they walked together. His wife calling his name as they made love late into the night. He could never stop the melancholy when their likenesses danced in his memory, which is why he rarely allowed these thoughts to the surface. He was brought out of his reverie by her hand on his cheek.

"Hey, I'm sorry." Her voice was soft and her touch gentle. "I shouldn't ha-"

He put his fingers to her lips to silence her and held her gaze.

"Shh. I had a family and friends once. Most people called me Ray or Raymond, but not my wife. She called me Jack, as in jack of all trades. I won't tell you more than that right now, but someday." 

He closed his eyes, savoring her touch, wanting to show her his love for her but unwilling to at this point in time. He took her hand from his cheek, kissed the back of her hand and lowered it, caressing her hand with his thumb. 

"You can call me Ray, Raymond or Jack, though the latter would take some getting used to on my part."

"Ray is fine. I don't want to intrude upon your past memories. Can I ask another question?"

Still stroking her hand, he nodded, pleased that she respected his past. It seemed to him that she was trying to get her brain in sync with her heart, letting her guard down somewhat.

"What is this between us? Am am I just a diversion for you while you play this game with the FBI?"

"I can assure you that while I am using your employer and by extension you by mutual arrangement, that's as far as it goes. I will never force you to be with me on a personal level. Whether or not you trust me is up to you. As I told you on several occasions, I will do whatever I feel is necessary to protect you from harm. I'm not a perfect man, but I promise you that my fondness for you is genuine and I have no intention of betraying your trust."

"If what you say is true, then tell me one more thing before I go and deal with the beginning of the end of my marriage."

Sitting before him, so open and vulnerable, Lizzie was a stark contrast to Elizabeth Keen, Federal Agent. Honesty from anyone is such a rarity in his life that he cherishes these moments with her.

"You want to know how I came to know of you."

She nodded.

"Years ago, I did business with your father and he double crossed me. In deciding how to deal with his betrayal, I learned about and surveilled his family and friends, work associates and habits. You were in college, but still living at home. It became clear that you and your mother knew nothing of his second life and you were on your way to a career in law enforcement. He was divorced from your mother and non-existent in your lives, so I left you as I found you, unaware that I existed. Before I could deal with your father's betrayal, he ended up in trouble with someone else and our paths never crossed again. After learning of all your accomplishments during this time, I decided to check in on you from time to time to see how you were progressing. I suppose that was a bit stalkerish of me, but I won't apologize for it."

She stood up, but still held on to his hand. After a moment's hesitation, he stood up too and squeezed her hand, sensing her unease returning as she digested what he shared with her and prepared to leave to confront her husband.

"I'm not sure what to think about that."

"At one time, I was an ordinary guy going about my business until I became Red. Then you crossed my path and I was never the same. I was impressed and captivated by you, so I kept tabs on you. I suppose that my interest in you may be off-putting in that context, but I made a promise not to lie to you and I'm a man of my word. You inspired this blacklist project of mine and while I know you don't approve of my methods, we really are helping to make the world just a bit safer taking these people out of the equation. I care for you a great deal, Lizzie and consider you my friend." 

"I have to go. Thank you, Ray. Sorry for showing up unannounced."

He flashed a small grin to her.

"No apology necessary. You are welcome to call upon me any time, day or night. You know how to find me."

They stood in a moment of awkward silence before she quickly pecked him on the cheek and left. He brought his hand to cover where she kissed him and smiled. Her world was once again falling apart around her, but this time he could and would be there for her - to protect her, to save her, even to love her though he didn't think her ready to face that revelation. For as unsettled as her world was at the moment, so too was his carefully constructed world.

From the time that he crossed line from John Q Public into the lifestyle that eventually landed him on the FBI's most wanted list, he left the idea of a wife, kids and a picket fence far behind. He made an attempt at it once and they all suffered for it, him most of all. Suffering the loss of the ones he loved turned off that switch in him, which in turn flipped another switch that allowed him to become Red. He trusted no one. He guarded and paid handsomely for his own protection and privacy and went about his business unhindered, though not unnoticed, by the alphabet agencies. 

Everyone has a weakness though, a proverbial thorn, and he was no exception. His was Elizabeth Keen. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he was captivated. She was a young, smart woman in college learning a career that was in direct opposition to her father, unbeknownst to her at the time. His research revealed a tough childhood and so many broken promises from those around her, yet she rose above it all and was making something of herself instead of wallowing in self-pity. He admired that about her and kept tabs on her over the years until he came up with his plan to help her and make good on some healthy doses of revenge for those who had crossed him.

His master plan with the FBI had worked brilliantly thus far. He, a top tenner, came and went as he pleased, toyed with the FBI agents and manipulated them into helping him carry out his blacklist. He had hatched this plan a few years ago when Elizabeth became an FBI agent. Her records showed that she intended to transfer to the BAU and he decided that he could help her career along and make good on some long overdue justice for certain people. He had always admired her, always cared for her, but if he were to be completely honest it was love at first sight for him. He denied it, talked himself out of it, ignored it and tried to drown it out with other women, but nothing changed the ever strengthening feelings he had for her. Red thought that finally meeting her and getting to know her would put an end to these feelings and this ideal of her, but instead they blossomed and he knew he was in trouble.

God help him, he was in love with Liz, despite their many differences and he was profoundly afraid. Afraid of putting her in danger time and time again during the course of their missions. Afraid of putting her career in jeopardy if the FBI found out about his feelings for her. Afraid of not being there in time to save her. Afraid of her rejection and even more afraid of her not rejecting him. He had spent a lifetime alone after everything had been taken from him, not unlike Job, and he grieved for what he lost.

Lizzie had penetrated the walls around his heart and taken up residence there. No one had ever gotten this close to him in his current lifestyle and yet in a few short weeks she was in his home seeking refuge from the maelstrom that her life had become. The fact that she felt comfortable enough to come here made his heart soar, but doubt quickly crept in and tempered his hope. Could she ever love him for who he is - a broken man turned criminal, murderer, facilitator to other criminals, and ultimately lonely soul seeking a love that he doesn't deserve another chance at? Would she ever consider being with him after this blacklist deal was done? Even if she could accept him and wanted him, what could he possibly offer her long term with the nearly 20 year age difference between them? It was these questions that haunted him in the long hours of the night. These that can't be erased by alcohol, drugs or sex. These questions that he so wanted answers to, but in the same turn was afraid to face the reality that came with those answers.

Turning his thoughts of her off for the moment, he decided to shower and turn in early. They had both had a long and stressful couple of days, her especially, but there was nothing he could do for her now except rest and be ready to comfort her if she chose to return to him after her confrontation with Tom. He lay in his bed and watched the night deepen, while images of his family and Lizzie played in his mind's eye and lulled him to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments/kudos. This was written as a whole so the chapter transitions may be a little abrupt. I skipped the whole Tom/Liz confrontation in favor of more time with Red/Liz. Right arrows are texts from Liz to Red. Left arrows are Red's replies.

Red startled awake, unaware of what woke him in the first place. He checked the clock which showed 1:27 am and he checked his phone which had one unread text message from Lizzie.

->01:25:37 - R u up?

Worry creased his brow. He knew she wouldn't be contacting him at this time of night if things were okay.

Yes. You ok? <\- 01:28:53

->01:29:45 - Yes.

->01:30:02 - No. Not really. :(

->01:31:36 - He was upset, I left.

Red's concern increased as he read into what the texts didn't say.

Where are you? <\- 01:32:48

->01:46:11 - Outside... :-$

Sighing his relief, he made his way downstairs and to the front door, tying his silk robe in place before opening the door to a disheveled but seemingly unharmed Elizabeth Keen, walking back to her car. When the door opening failed to stop her, he strode down the walk to do so.

"Lizzie."

She stopped when she heard her name. He stopped right behind her and spoke.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my car. Away. I shouldn't be here."

"Why not?"

She turned to face him, eyes red with the remnants of recently shed tears.

"Because you're you and I'm me."

He could see her breath in the air as she exhaled which brought a shiver down his spine as he realized just how inadequate his attire was for this weather.

"True, perhaps. At least part of you wants to be here, though."

"I don't know."

He was starting to shiver and his voice revealed his discomfort.

"That's not true. There has to be a reason, whether or not you care to admit it."

"Shit! It's freezing outside...I'm sorry. I'll see you later."

He reached out and caught her arm to stop her.

"Come inside and I'll make something warm and we can talk, or not talk if you prefer."

Her resolve dissipated and he followed her back to his front door, which he opened for her. He gestured for her to hang her things from the rack and smiled when she slipped her shoes off.

"Kitchen's this way!"

He made his way to the kitchen and turned on one of the burners to the gas stove to warm up a bit while he decided what to make. She came in and sat on a stool at the bar, looking tired and defeated.

"What's your pleasure? Cocoa, tea, warm milk or perhaps something a little stronger?

"Whatever you like, although warm and strong would be nice."

He held her gaze briefly before turning to gather ingredients. Intent on making hot chocolate, he put some milk on the stove to warm and got the mix from the cabinet.

"So, why did you come here?"

"Truth?"

"Always, Lizzie."

He turned and stirred the milk, then reached up into the top cabinet for the Grand Marnier. She sighed heavily and he returned his focus to her after turning the heat down on the burner.

"I feel like I've known you all my life. I've never experienced that before...it's always been hard to trust anyone, to open up, to let someone in and yet, you come barging into my life and I feel this connection with you."

He paused, searching her eyes and when she failed to say more he turned, added the cocoa to the milk and then a splash of Grand Marnier in each oversized mug. He set the mug in front of her and waited for her to taste his concoction, smiling when she let out a hum of pleasure. He gestured to the sitting room and took his own mug, following her to the sofa. 

"The Grand Marnier and cocoa is sinful, thanks."

"Good. I hoped you would like it. If you feel this kinship, why is it you keep showing up on my doorstep ready to run away?"

"You're in the top 5 of the top 10 most wanted criminals in the nation. You've killed two people in my presence. You are using the FBI to eliminate this so called blacklist of yours and you are using me as leverage. On paper, you are a ruthless man who will use anyone and anything to get your way. You waltz into FBI headquarters and surrender yourself on the condition that you only deal with me. You call me Lizzie, invoke my father's memory, put me undercover in situations where I am under informed, shoot a man dead to keep our cover, track me down in the lair of the Stewmaker by tracking a fucking microchip in his dog, throw said psychopath in the stew killing him, rescue me and then ask if I'm going to tell them you were naughty! Do you really have to ask why I question my sanity every time I come here?"

"Well, when you put it like that..."

Red didn't much like the turn the conversation was taking, but everything she said was true. He shifted his body toward her, observing her while she continued to savor the cocoa. Never one to mince words with him her truths hit home, though he wouldn't show her just how much they hurt. He was intimately familiar with all of his deeds and failures she pointed out and those she omitted or didn't know about. Despite his own doubts and fears, he wanted to know what it was she saw in him that counterbalanced his shortcomings. He raised his brow, silently urging her to continue.

"But I also see what no one else does. I see the man behind the infamy. A man capable of compassion, emotion, sacrifice and perhaps love."

"Oh Lizzie, that man was broken and lost long ago. He doesn't exist anymore."

Standing, Red moved to the window to gaze out at the stars, but the light in the room had him staring at his own reflection in the glass. A man conflicted on so many levels. A man undeserving of the woman in his home, struggling to make sense of her own conflicted emotions toward him. He would never be the man he was before the evil inside him grew and took hold of his very soul. That was the man she deserved. The man he could never again be...blood's been spilt, homes ruined, property stolen, atrocities allowed and lives taken. Their blood was staining his soul and nothing could wash it away.

"Doesn't he?"

"No, Elizabeth, he doesn't. I crossed a line. My soul is stained with the blood of the lives taken by my own hand and by the hands of the people I helped. No amount of attrition can make it right. Even if we got every single person I did business with, it still wouldn't be enough. I..."

He felt her hand on his shoulder and turned around to meet her eyes. His heart broke for her, for them. He felt a current pass between them as she took his hand in hers. He knew he should break contact, pull away from her, but he wasn't strong enough. It felt too good. Valiantly he tried to make his mouth do what his flesh couldn't.

"Lizzie, I. I..."

The words stalled on his lips as she searched his eyes and took his other hand. The last of his defenses fell as her eyes implored him to reveal his truth to her. Her compassion, her need was overwhelming, leaving him nowhere to hide.  
"Ray...tell me."

"I can't, I can't."

He tore his eyes away from her and focused on the ceiling above. He was a weak, weak man. Standing before him was everything he wanted, but didn't deserve. There would be no going back once he revealed to her how deep his feelings were for her. Worse, if he put a stop to this burgeoning relationship with her, it would tear out what's left of his heart and it would hurt her too. In the soft glow of the room, he finally realized how big of a mistake he made insinuating himself into her life. Nothing would ever be the same for either of them. He was arrogant, selfish, and foolish to have put her in this position. The only thing left to do is to be honest with her and let her choose their path to the future.

"You can. Everything is so complicated already, but you opened this door. You brought us together and you showed me that you care. I'm here, now, Raymond. I'm here and despite both of our past lives, I have come to trust you based on our interactions together and I'm not quick to trust, you know that. Talk to me."

He put his hand on her cheek and searched her eyes as he spoke.

"I opened Pandora's box. I was arrogant and selfish. I thought I could leverage my way out of trouble, help your career and then ride off into the proverbial sunset. Leave all this nastiness behind me and retire somewhere warm. I thought that meeting you in person and working with you would break the spell I was under, but I'm afraid it did just the opposite. And now hindsight reveals my folly...I have brought nothing but danger and turmoil into your life; caused you to be under more scrutiny at your workplace and to be mistrusted by your colleagues. I have inspired you to trust in a man who is completely undeserving of the gift of your friendship. A man who is irrevocably yoked by the consequences and guilt his own despicable actions have wrought. A man in whom everything good and decent was shattered beyond repair. I am truly sorry, Elizabeth."

He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, his lips lingering on her delicate skin. Her palms slid up the planes of his chest, encircled his neck and guided him nearer until their lips met. He lost all coherent thought as she gently kissed his lips, slowly deepening the kiss until tongues met and breath was shared. Finally he pulled back, rested his forehead to hers, short of breath and torn on what to do.

Her fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, while her other hand slid down to cover his heart. Her touch felt so good, so right. He was intoxicated by her but his brain was shouting at him to stop this before they went any farther down this path. There is nothing he can do now that won't hurt her, whether it occurs now or sometime in the future. 

"Raymond is still in here." She patted her hand over his heart to emphasize the point. "I know he is. If he weren't, I wouldn't be here. In the short time I've known you, you have been there for me even when I pushed you away."

"Lizzie, I can't give you what you want. What you need. What you deserve. At the very least, you deserve to live a life where you don't have to look over your shoulder every time you walk out your front door."

She pulled back and let out a grunt of disapproval.

"Like I can do that now? My first day at the BAU I had the Feds and local PD surrounding my home, sirens blaring, guns pulled and choppers circling. I knew going into law enforcement would mean changes to my personal life, cognizance of my personal security being one of them."

"Ok, so that's not the best argument I could've chosen, but the fact still remains - being involved with me isn't good for you."

"Right and being involved with Tom is so much better for me, a man who has probably lied to me from day one, has multiple passports, a gun and cash hidden away in the house and killed at least one man while we were supposed to be on holiday. Ray, you've been honest with me so far. That's more than he's done."

He turned from her to look out the window again, angry at himself for fucking things up so badly and drawing her in. 

"Lizzie, I've killed people. Two people in your presence and we've only been involved in this venture for a few weeks. I've killed others and I still intend to kill the man responsible for the murders of my wife and daughter. You're good, Lizzie. You're on the right side of the law. You're young, vibrant, intelligent and brave. Don't waste your time on me. I have nothing to offer you. I know this is all my fault and I know it will hurt us both, but it would be better for you to turn around and leave and let me go back underground. I would make sure to leave in such a..."

"Ray..."

Her hands traced the contours of his back before grabbing his shoulders and turning him around once again.

"Maybe all that is true. Maybe I should just turn around, walk out of here and never look back. Maybe I should cuff you now, bring you in saying you're a flight risk. Maybe I should just pull my service weapon and put you out of your misery."

He flinched as the impact of her words hit him. To hear her talking about taking a life was too much.

"Damnit Lizzie, don't talk like that."

"Why not? What you've said is mostly true and it all makes sense. I get it...I really do. But there's one thing in this rant of yours that you forgot."

"What might that be?"

"Me, Ray. Me. All this talk about what I am, what I deserve, what I don't deserve. What about what I want?"

Her eyes searched his soul and he felt the last of his resolve crumble. Pandora's Box was wide open and the best he could do now was to protect her and cherish her the best he could under the circumstances. The road ahead would be fraught with danger, complexity, lies, duplicity, and uncertainty.

"Of course, your desires and needs are of upmost importance to me. Forgive me for not making it appear as such. Please don't feel as if you have to make up your mind about anything right now. You're under a tremendous amount of stress in your life, lacking proper sleep and there are some things about me you may find repulsive in the clear light of day after a good sleep."

He held her face in his hands.

"Stay here tonight, Lizzie. I have a couple guest rooms you can choose from to stay in and you can sleep in as long as you like since today is Friday, well Saturday now. Rest, relax and think things over. We can talk again when you are ready. Have you an overnight bag with you?"

"Yeah, it's part of the job."

"Perfect. I'll show you to your room; then you can give me the keys to retrieve your bag and move your car into the garage."

He began to pull away from her when she stopped him.

"Wait...Ray?"

"Hmm?"

"Kiss me."

Two simple words stirred his emotions. She wanted him, even knowing most of the worst things he has done, she still wanted him. It was too good to be true, but he would enjoy it for what it was knowing that she may come to her senses in the morning. He stepped in close to her, pulled her body to his and kissed her properly. Slowly he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth, clutching her tightly and trying desperately to memorize every nuance of how it felt to hold her in his arms. Struggling to regain his bearings, he reluctantly broke of the kiss and embraced her tightly. Breathless, he whispered to her.

"I want this, Lizzie. I want you. I've wanted to be with you for years. Don't take this as a rejection because it's not. Get some rest tonight...you're safe here. When you are well rested and relaxed, if you haven't changed your mind then come to me. If you feel like you need time to get things resolved in other areas of your life, I'll wait for you. If you don't want to pursue this while I'm under contract with the FBI, I'll wait for you. If you decide the best thing is to walk away after all, I won't stop you. All I ask is that you tell me what you want from me, what you need from me as honestly as you can. Okay?"

He nuzzled her neck before searching for the truth in her eyes, needing to know that she wasn't upset at his decision.

"I think I can do that. Thanks, Ray. For all of it."

They walked through the house to her room. She kissed him on the lips and pressed her keys into his hand, when they stopped in front of her room for the night.

"There's a full bath and shower with everything you'll need including towels and supplies. Feel free to raid the kitchen, find a book or explore the house. I'll give you a full tour tomorrow when the light is better. It'll only take a couple minutes to get your things; I'll place them on the bed."

He opened the door for her and flipped on the light. Nervousness hovered around the edges of his countenance, a feeling to which he was decidedly unaccustomed. Whether it was the result of his vulnerability around her or the fact that he hasn't attempted any type of relationship outside of no strings sex since he lost his wife was unclear. Even the act of kissing Lizzie was more intimate than he allowed with anyone in years.

He made his way out to her car and brought it in closer to the house, jumping out to open the garage door with the external keypad. Once the car was in and the door was closed, he cut the engine and took a moment to look around. The car was well kept and he saw a file on the passenger seat with his name on it. Taking the file he opened it, smirked at the picture on the front page and rubbed the stubble on his head. There were times he missed his hair, but they had picked an absolutely horrendous picture that looked like he was trying to be a late 70's rocker complete with tinted glasses, bad clothes and a stoned look on his face. A chill ran down his spine reminding him once again he isn't dressed for the weather so he grabbed the file, went around to the trunk to get her bag and headed back to the warmth of the house.

The door to her room was open so he stepped in, set her stuff on the bed and moved to leave the room when he heard her voice. Coming nearer to the door he realized she was crying and hesitated a moment before knocking.

"Lizzie?"

Her crying stopped and he heard rustling behind the door before it creaked open. She looked distraught and just stared at the ground blankly before him, trying to hold everything in. Taking her hand in his, he pulled her close and held her in his arms, reassuring her.

"It's ok, Lizzie. I've got you."

She held on to him and cried it all out. He pulled a handkerchief from his robe pocket and handed it to her when she finally settled down. She cleaned up as best she could, but still held fast to him as if he were a lifeline.

"Sorry about your robe." 

"No need." 

He tightened his embrace momentarily then pulled back to look at her. Hand under her chin, he tipped up her face to meet her eyes and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Better now?"

She only nodded.

"Good, go clean up and dress for bed. If you feel up to it, I'd like to see you before you turn in for the night. Knock on my door across the hall or call and I'll come to you if you prefer."

She nodded again and proceeded back into the bathroom. He left the room, closing the door behind him and going back to the kitchen. He washed the few dishes from their drinks earlier and looked in the cabinet for a sleeping pill. Finding one, he cut it in half, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went to his room to wait for her. He turned off the lights and gazed out at the night sky. He loved the views this house provided and chose the room with an unobstructed view of the hills. A full moon hung in the sky, shedding a soft pale light in the room. He turned as she padded into the room and wrapped his arm around her as she joined him at the window.

"Tired?"

"Yes, but not ready to sleep."

"I have half a sleeping pill and bottle of water for you on the dresser. There's a TV in the cabinet in your room, books downstairs in the main sitting room, and there's gym equipment at the end of the hall past your room if you want to burn off some energy. If you need anything during the night, come wake me up...I have no plans this weekend so it won't be an imposition."

"Alright. Is that what you wanted to see me for?"

"In part, yes. My main concern was making sure you were ok. You've had a rough few days and then I dumped all of this on you. I know it's a lot to handle and I want you to know that I'm okay with whatever you decide. You've been very candid with me and I don't want that to change."

He felt her turn and slide her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. She let out a deep sigh. They stood in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. His focus returned to her as she yawned.

"Let's get you to bed. Would you like the pill?"

She shook her head, so he guided her to her room grabbing the water bottle on the way. He turned down the covers for her when she slipped in the bathroom and sat in the chair in the corner to wait for her.

"Hey. Thanks for everything Ray."

His eyes moved over her as she sat on the bed across from him.

"My pleasure. Anything else I can do for you before you turn in?"

He saw the hesitation in her movement and asked her again.

"What is it?"

"Can you stay for a little while?"

He got up, turned the lights off leaving the bathroom one on with the door closed for ambient light and closed the blinds. He approached the bed and sat on the edge near her prone form. Brushing the hair away from her face, he pulled the covers up to her shoulders and caressed her arm through the soft duvet. 

"Of course. Good night, Lizzie."

He leaned down and kissed her, then stood to take his place back in the chair when he felt her hand grasp his.

"Stay here, with me, for a little while."

He went to the other side of the bed and arranged the pillows so he could lean up against the headboard. Once comfortable, she turned over and put her pillow near him, pulling his arm down around her.

"Tell me a story, Raymond. I need to hear your voice."

"Hmm."

He thought for a moment of what to tell her. Most of his stories would be unpleasant for her or painful for him. He decided on a story from his childhood, one of the few good memories he had.

"There was a little boy about five years old running around outside and playing. His mother was nearby and he was happy because he had the playground to himself. He climbed up the stairs of the slide and threw himself down the slide head first, then feet first and backwards too. He laughed with abandon and imagined himself a cop chasing robbers around the steel structures and bushes, pointing his fingers in the shape of gun and killing the bad guys. Out of breath, he paused behind one of the bushes peering out to see where the enemy was hiding and he found a squirrel on the ground."

"His eyes widened as he approached it cautiously, the bad guys forgotten. He squatted down and studied it, pondering what to do with this creature he found. He poked it with a small twig he found on the ground and decided that it wasn't going to bite him, so he picked it up and ran to show his mother, bursting with excitement about the new pet he found. His mother heard the excited shrieks from her son and looked up to see him running toward her, a rigid squirrel in hand being twisted back and forth to emphasize what he had found."

He turned his attention to Lizzy, who was captivated by the story he told and smiling at him. She seemed relaxed and calmer than she was earlier, so he continued.

"His mother was shocked by what she saw, but she didn't want to scare her son so she told him to stop where he was. Unsure of what was happening, he listened to his mom. 'Okay son, gently put him down so he can keep sleeping.' He was confused, but knew his mom was great at taking care of animals so he gently put the squirrel in the grass. 'Good boy, now I want you to put your paws up in the air without touching your face.' He giggled and put his arms up in the air careful to not touch his face. His mom came and took his arms and guided him to the bathroom to wash his hands. She helped him lather up good and said silly things in his ear that made him giggle some more. She dried him off and scooped him up in her arms, nuzzling his neck and tickling his sides all the way to the car. She explained in the car that the squirrel's mom had to take him home and clean him up just like she did for him. That night, his mom heard laughter coming from his room and peeked in to see him laughing in his sleep. Intrigued, she sat on the edge of his bed to watch him dream. He woke up and told her he dreamed that he had squirrel paws and a tail, and that she did too in his dream which looked funny and made him laugh. She lay down beside him and they fell asleep together, whispering about squirrels and little boys with paws..."

He sighed and lapsed into silence as he relived one of the few cherished memories of his time as a young boy before it was shattered by the loss of his mother. He held her hand and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

"The boy was you wasn't it?"

He nodded.

"And you lost her when you were young?"

Again he nodded.

"I liked that story, thank you. G'night Ray."

"Night."

She turned over and he gazed at her, grateful to her for her intuition and also impressed by it. Twice now she chose not to pry when others most certainly would have kept digging and she chose to call him by his given name instead of the more personal nickname his wife gave him. Lizzie was proving worthy of his trust and he would prove to her he was worthy of hers. Eventually her breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and he carefully moved from the bed to his own room, leaving her door open in case she had nightmares from her Stewmaker ordeal.

He folded his robe and put it on the end of the bed, in case he had to get up again before dawn. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he rubbed his hands over his face and leaned forward, elbows on knees, pondering all that occurred in such a short span of time. He thought about the taste of her on his lips and the feel of her in his arms. No woman he'd ever encountered as Red was in her league. They were all brash and hard, using their sexuality like a mechanic would use a crowbar or a wrench. There was no tenderness with them, no honesty in words or deeds. A few years after losing his wife, he thought he might find someone to share his life with, such as it was, but no one appealed to him. Shortly after he came to the realization that he wouldn't have that type of companionship again, he stopped kissing women all together unless absolutely necessary. He found partners to satisfy his sexual needs, but never granted them the intimacy or vulnerability he so willingly shared with Lizzie.

Worn out, he stretched out on his bed, propped his arm behind his head and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind of everything except the woman in the next room. He'd made a huge mess of things with her and ultimately put her in danger, more than working for the FBI would put her in. Once their connection becomes knowledge in his circles, though he hoped it wouldn't, they would both be in danger. They would target her to leverage their power over him and he couldn't bear to watch them torture her to get to him. If she wanted to pursue a relationship with him, he would have to make some big decisions and arrangements to be able to keep them both safe. He had plenty of money to live on for the rest of their lives, but he would have to find alternate means to occupy himself.

Everything hinged on her and how she would feel in subsequent days and weeks. He wondered if she would change her mind right away or if she would become repulsed by him and what he's done over a longer period of time. What would it be like if she did want to be with him and had someone willing to share their life knowing the truth about him? How would he react to her constant presence if it came to pass? He was always so guarded and private; would he be able to maintain the openness that he allowed with her earlier? Would he be able to protect her from those that would seek to torture her to bend him to their will? What kind of monster was he, professing to love her yet selfishly dragging her unknowingly into his world, into his life? He could spend a year pondering these questions and many more, but it was fruitless now that the deed had been done.

He heard commotion coming from Lizzie's room and got up to find out what was wrong, standing just outside her doorway. She was thrashing around in her sleep and moaning as if in pain. He went to her side and sat down, speaking her name softly. Her movements slowed enough to where he could place his hand on her forehead, which seemed to calm her even more. Her skin was clammy and her hair damp in places, which he moved out of her face as he whispered softly to her. Never having awoken completely, her breathing evened out once more and she nestled into the warmth of the duvet. 

Satisfied that she settled back into a peaceful slumber, he made his way back to his room to get a comforter, a book and his reading glasses. He returned to her room, turning on the small light near the chair in the corner and took up watch over her. If he could keep her from waking, she should get the rest her body and mind needed. He moved the chair slightly and used the end of the bed to prop up his legs. Once comfortable, Red studied her as she slept. She slept on her side with her arm crooked under the pillow, her jewelry missing but faint shadows of pale skin show where the items reside, and contrary to what he saw earlier was very still in sleep. The rhythm of her breathing steady and quiet, he opened the book, donned his glasses and lost himself in the world conjured by the imagination of the man whose home he now lives in. 

Through the night he kept watch over her, calming her when her dreams turned to nightmares and soothing her back into peaceful slumber. The hours slipped by, night turned to dawn and Red slept by her bedside, without the specters that haunted his dreams for so many years.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a transitional chapter...thanks for your continued reading and encouragement.

Daylight illuminated the room as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. Lizzie was sitting up against the headboard watching him with a confused look on her face. He figured that she didn't know why he was in her room, but was curious to see how she handled it as that would be a good indication of how she felt about him in the clear light of day.

Good morning, Lizzie."

He tossed the book and the comforter on the bed and flipped his glasses up on his head, rubbed his face with his hands, then gingerly sat up while stifling a groan. He regarded her for a moment, watching the confusion being replaced by amusement, which he supposed was the result of his discomfort after spending the remainder of the night in the chair. He made a note to find better chairs to decorate with.

"Good morning. You look like hell."

"Why thank you for that astute observation. I can assure you that I feel much the same, although a shower and breakfast would go a long way to counteract the consequences of letting my staff choose the furniture for the guest rooms."

"I had nightmares?"

"Yes, three times that I'm aware of, but you never fully woke up."

"Why stay in the chair? You could have returned to your room."

"Yes, I could have. It made me feel better to be in here with you, where I could tend to your needs quickly."

"Why didn't you just wake me? You could have slept in the bed with me."

"It didn't seem appropriate. Let me clean up and we can go downstairs and have some breakfast. I've told my staff to take the weekend off, except for maintaining outside security, so you don't have to worry about running into anyone else in the house. Make yourself at home."

She nodded. He felt her eyes on him as he put the chair back in place and gathered his things to leave her room. He could tell that she was still going over things in her head and trying to fit what she just learned into the puzzle that was Raymond Reddington. She said nothing more as he left the room and his nerves about the whole situation reappeared. There being nothing he could do until she conveyed her desires to him, he opted for a scalding hot shower to ease his stiffness and clear his head.

He lingered too long in the warmth of the shower, though it did wonders to ease the effects of chair dozing. He stifled a yawn, groomed and dressed quickly and headed downstairs to be stopped in his tracks by the aroma of bacon. It seemed his well-rested companion for the weekend had beaten him to the punch and started breakfast on her own.

He padded quietly to the kitchen entryway and leaned his shoulder on the frame to observe her unnoticed in his kitchen. She moved with a practiced ease through the kitchen as if it were her own, mouthing the words to the music filtering through her ear buds oblivious to his scrutiny. Seeing Lizzie this way in his home stirred in him painful memories of the past and imagined desires for the future. Images of him and his wife interspersed with images of how he envisioned himself and Lizzie together. The juxtaposition of his past and vision of what his future could be was disconcerting and almost felt like a betrayal, although he knew it wasn't.

His focus returned to her, eyes roaming over her body as he imagined bending her over the kitchen table and taking her from behind . Lost in thought, he was grateful for the robe covering the evidence of his thought process as he became aware of her trying to get his attention.

"Ray?"

"Hmm?"

"You were zoned out there for a couple minutes. Are you alright?"

"Yes, just thinking. Smells good, Lizzie."

"What about?"

"You mostly."

She sauntered toward him, ear buds now dangling from her neck, with a piece of bacon in hand.

"Mmm hmmm. I'm not sure how you like your bacon, will this do?"

Their eyes locked as she brought the morsel to his mouth and fed it to him. He felt himself harden further and closed his eyes, mind warring with his body not to give in to the impulse to devour her rather than breakfast. 

"It's delicious, Lizzie."

She stepped closer to him, but he would not give in to his desires until she made clear her decision, regardless of her teasing. He captured her hand in his, kissed her palm and met her gaze.

"Don't be a tease, Elizabeth. We still have to talk and I won't be toyed with."

She nodded and stepped back, dissipating the tension ratcheted up between them.

"Just give me a few minutes to finish and we can eat. Let's eat at the table."

He wandered over to the table near the window. The rays of the sun filtered through the tree branches and painted this corner of the kitchen in kaleidoscopic patters of shadow and light, radiating just enough warmth to take chill out of the air. He settled in a chair and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen. Knowing it was Lizzie and not the hired help in the kitchen made it a soothing noise, calming the nerves and restlessness plaguing him. He knew that it was the lack of sleep and her presence that made him vulnerable to the nervousness, but it was the fact that path of their future rested in her hands and out of his control that made him antsy. This was the first time in over fifteen years that a decision directly affecting him was out of his control and in the hands of someone else.

Her footsteps alerted him to her presence and he got up to help her. He took the plates from her and set them on the table. He sat down as she returned with tea for both of them.

"I wasn't sure what you drank in the morning other than not coffee, given the fact that there is no coffee paraphernalia in the house."

"Tea is fine, thank you. I don't care for coffee, it's too one dimensional in taste. You can add flavors, but the same bitter taste sits on your palette. Tea is so much more nuanced."

They fell into silence as they began to eat, though not awkward, there was still the unanswered question hanging in the air between them. Difficult as it was, he wouldn't push her and would let her come to the subject in her own time. He imagined that she felt a bit uneasy after he chastised her in the kitchen, but it was necessary for his sanity and in fairness to them both. She was too important to him to take advantage of her boldness without knowing for certain exactly what it was she wanted from him.

"Lizzie, this is very good. It seems you learned more than dorm room fare along the way."

"Yeah, I got tired of boxed and canned food quickly. You're lucky, breakfast is my best event. Not so good at the more complicated meals of lunch and dinner."

He smiled and wiped his mouth with the napkin after having cleared his plate. He waited a few moments until she was finished, then gathered the dishes and took them into the kitchen. He was rinsing the dishes to load in the washer when he noticed her in the doorway watching him. He made eye contact with her briefly and returned to the task at hand.

"What's on your mind? I can hear your wheels turning from over here."

"You. Me. Us. Tom and I."

He turned on the dishwasher when he was finished loading and took a clean rag to wipe down the counters and stove, which gave him opportunity to watch her now that his back wouldn't be turned to her. She said nothing more, so he finished up and walked over to her.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really, but we need to."

"Come. There's a room upstairs I've converted into a sitting room. It's the best room and it has a fireplace."

Hand held out, he waited for her. She seemed troubled now that the weight of her burdens had returned to the forefront of her thoughts. It made him want to hold her and make her forget everything but Lizzie and Ray. They made their way upstairs and stopped to dress before settling in for the rest of the morning. Once he was finished, he wandered across the hall to see what Lizzie was doing. Perched on the edge of her bed, she was lost in her thoughts as he approached the door.

"All set?"

She nodded and followed him to a room on the corner of the upper floor. He opened the door and stepped aside for her to enter.

"Oh, Ray, it's so beautiful."

It pleased him that she was so taken by the room's beauty as he was the first time he saw it. A dome of glass was fashioned at the top of the room, allowing an unobstructed view of the sky and bathing the room in sunlight. There were shades for the dome when the heat became too intense in the summer, but during the evenings and winter months the room was perfect.

"Wait until nightfall...that's when the real show begins."

He sat down in the corner of the love seat and sighed with relief at the comfort, a sharp contrast to the dismal chair he spent the night in. She opted to explore the room further, letting her fingers caress the planes of the furniture as she took in the beauty of the expensive furnishings accenting the shape and openness of the room. She lingered at the opposite side of the room, whether to avoid him or the elephant in the room wasn't clear. What was clear was her level of disquiet steadily increasing as each minute she let pass without speaking her mind.

"Lizzie, come here."

She hesitated a few moments, then crossed the room, but didn't sit down next to him. Eyes downcast, she stood before him clearly troubled and unsure of what to do. He grasped her hand in his and pulled her down beside him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She was stiff in his embrace until she finally let out a deep sigh and gave in to his offer of comfort.

"Sweetheart, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. That said, of all the abilities I possess, mind reading isn't amongst them."

"I know... I'm sorry for putting you through all of this. Everything is so complicated, now. I always swore that when I married, it would be for life. I wanted a family and I didn't want my children to have to go through divorce. I believed that when the words until death do us part were spoken, their meaning should be taken literally. Yet, here I am with a stranger for a husband and a stranger for a friend; both of whom are criminals and claim to love me. Tom and I have been married for three years and were seeking to adopt a baby when our world was turned upside down; first by the asshole that broke into our house and then by the asshole who decided to make me his third grade science experiment."

She got up and started pacing the room, talking more to herself than him. He marveled at the mercurial emotions flowing through her being, almost like something iridescent being turned in the light. His eyes followed her and his heart pounded in his chest; waiting for the rejection he thought was coming while desperately hoping that she would choose him. He steeled himself for both possibilities and locked down his emotions. The last thing he wanted to do was unduly influence her. This decision was hers to make and he promised to honor that decision no matter the outcome.

"Now that's not fair...the level of complexity would rate a tenth grade science experiment at least."

She turned on her heel and faced him, anger and annoyance rising to the surface.

"Out of everything I said that's what you chose to comment on?"

"What do you want me to say, Lizzie?"

"I don't know. You're sitting there like you don't have a care in the world and my whole life has been turned upside down."  
He got up and took her by the upper arms, stilling her.

"Now that's unfair, Elizabeth. I laid everything out for you yesterday. You know I want you and you also know that I am deeply conflicted about the choices I've made to insinuate myself into your life. About the only thing I haven't told you is that I'm in love with you, Elizabeth Madeline Rose Harper Keen. For better or worse, this old, worthless criminal is one hundred percent head over heels in love with you."

"How did you know my full name? It's not even on my birth certificate."

He smirked at her frown, petulant but endearing nonetheless.

"Out of everything I said that's what you chose to comment on?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes and he thought, perhaps, that he said too much. He still didn't know what her answer was going to be and yet he had told her everything. He tipped her head up and saw tears running down her face. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped her tears away and sighed in frustration. The waiting was driving him mad.

"Lizzie...look at me. Just tell me what you want. Do you want to go home to him and try to work things out with him such as they are?"

"No, I don't. Everything changed when you barged into my life, Raymond, and even if Tom is exactly who he says he is and there is no longer any reason to doubt him, I couldn't stay with him now. One touch between us made it clear that what Tom and I have isn't the same. I know now that I wasn't in love with him any more than he was in love with me. I don't want him."

He fought the urge to close his eyes as her hand cupped his cheek. He searched her face for any sign, any flicker of doubt, uncertainty or duplicity. He felt a wave of fear as his mind processed the full implications of the words she spoke. The fact that she could want him stole his breath away and the realization that for the first time since his wife and daughter were taken from him that he could love and be loved overwhelmed him. It was a beginning and an end. A freedom and a prison. A joy and a terror. He was getting ahead of her and himself. She had said that she didn't want Tom, but she didn't yet say she wanted him.

"What do you want, Lizzie?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story will finally earn its rating. Thanks for reading :)

_Previously_

_He was getting ahead of her and himself. She had said that she didn't want Tom, but she didn't yet say she wanted him._

_"What do you want, Lizzie?"_

"You know, girls are taught at a very young age that love is a fairy tale. A young, handsome man will court you, serenade you and shower you with gifts. This man will come to your rescue and treat you as a keepsake, to be viewed and protected. You will be beautiful for him, saying the right things and attending to his every need. He will provide a home, safe and secure, and you will provide him with children and live happily ever after. That's what I had with Tom, a dashing man who wined and dined me, rescued me from loneliness, and provided for my needs. It was everything I was taught I should want and expect and I thought it was my dream come true. And then I met you."

He stood before her, stomach in knots, waiting for her give him a sign of what was to come. He wants a yes or no answer from her, but she apparently has more to say. He shifted his feet but yielded no other sign of his nervous energy that returned with a vengeance after her declaration that she no longer wanted to be with Tom regardless of his situation.

"I woke up that morning content with my life. I had a new job, a husband who loved me, a possible adoption on the horizon and then I stepped out my door into chaos. One minute I'm stepping outside saying goodbye to Tom and the next I'm being swept away like a person of interest in a manhunt. I'll never forget the first time our gazes met as I walked into the room where they had you restrained. It was intense, electric, mesmerizing and I couldn't tear my eyes away. It was as if you could see into my very soul and all I could think about later that night, lying next to my husband, was why I didn't feel that way when he looked at me. Then you spoke to me, said I was special, called me Lizzie, and told me that I was to be your sole means of communication in this deal you wanted with the FBI. I knew that I was a means to an end for you, but there was also a subtext at play, which intrigued and disturbed me. One interaction with the infamous Red and everything in and about my life was called into question. My naïveté about my life and the world in general began to fade, and I started to really see things for what they were."

She sighed and flopped back down on the love seat, elbows on knees and face in her hands. She finally looked over at him as he sat at an angle, facing her...willing her to give him something that would indicate his future with her or a future without her.

"I saw the resentment of those I worked with, their eyes following me and the whispers that trailed me, who believed that I must be in collusion with you to be chosen as your liaison. I saw the growing impatience in Tom's eyes as the consequences of my career choice resulted in things I could not share and more time away from home; both of which we discussed prior to my acceptance. I saw the passion with which you lived your life and the pleasure you took in the small details that most people ignore. I came to know a man who was as infuriating as he was captivating, as arrogant as he was intelligent, and as ruthless as he was protective. I was drawn to you as a moth to the flame and I've experienced the warmth of the fire and I've been burned by it. What it all boils down to, Raymond, is that I don't want the idyllic dream. I don't want to conform to a predisposed idea of what my life and love is supposed to be like."

"We all have the moment where we lose our naïveté, our complacency about our lives and the world in which we live. For some it is an awakening, as if you were looking at everything in grayscale and suddenly it all turns to colors. In your case, Lizzie, it was more like turning a corner from a small path in a peaceful wood to the chaos of a disaster zone."

Staring at the wall behind her, all the memories of his family's destruction came into his mind. Images of their bodies flashed in his mind's eye; the heads severed and positioned to look at their own corpses, blood pooled on the floor and splattered on the walls, bruises and stab wounds marring their delicate skin. Yes, he remembered the day that he saw the world for the cruel and demented place it could be. His voice lowered to a whisper.

"For me, it was a descent into Hell...tormented by coming home to find my wife and daughter decapitated. I can still smell their blood, see their bodies, imagine their screams for help. I couldn't save them, Lizzie. I was too late. I worked late that day...we had a new system being installed and I was overseeing the project. While I was at work worrying about a project, my wife and daughter were bound, raped, and killed. My eyes were opened that day. Kill or be killed. I vowed to never have something to lose and to do whatever it took to protect myself and secure my future."

Tears stung his eyes. He would not give in to the anger and despair threatening to surface. His voice wavered.

"They took my heart and soul and what was left is who I am now."

"Jesus, Ray. Why wasn't it in the file?"

He had assumed she knew the details of the murders.

"It wasn't?"

His mind started processing what he had learned from her and what she seemed to know of him, as she left the room. He had a copy of his unclassified jacket the alphas have on him which was current as of his surrender to the FBI. In addition to his complete criminal actions, the murders were well documented in the file, including the full investigative reports from each agency that worked on the case. It also held information on his childhood, parents, schooling, work history and acquaintances. Now that he thought about it, she should have known about all this and his mother’s early demise, but she questioned him on it.

"Here, look at this."

She sat down next to him and laid out the file on both their legs so they could both see. He smiled when she handed him his reading glasses she must have picked up along the way and began scanning the pages of the file for information. This was the file that he brought in last night, which he assumed that this was a summarized version of the complete file.

"Lizzie, where did you get this file?"

"It's what Cooper gave me before I met with you for the first time. I took about an hour to go through it, then I did my first interview with you."

"Is this the only file on me you have seen?"

Her look of confusion told him all he needed to know. They had withheld information from her and sent her into the lion's den unarmed and uninformed.

"Well, yeah. I thought the gaps were unknowns."

"It's incomplete, Lizzie. So much so that one of two possibilities must be true...they were setting you up to fail or they didn't trust you. While the latter is almost certainly true, to give you an incomplete file as such puts you in grave danger, therefore I must conclude that they wanted you to fail."

"How do you know that they have the missing information? Obviously the murders are a glaring omission, but there has to be more than that for what you say to be true."

He walked over to the file cabinet in the corner and put in a code to open the lock. Quickly finding what he was looking for, he brought the jacket to Lizzie and laid it out on the coffee table for her.

"Jesus, that's three times the size of the one they gave me. Where did you get it?"

"I commissioned the file before my surrender. It always pays to know what your enemy knows about you."

Flipping through the pages, her eyes scanned the information contained within while he wondered how all this new information would bear on her decision, whatever it was.

“I can’t believe they would put me in a room with you knowing that there was so much about you that I didn’t know. The incomplete file led me to draw conclusions that weren’t accurate. I underestimated you. I trusted you when I shouldn’t have.”

She was on her feet again and the anger quickly rose to the surface.

“They played me for a fool.”

“But you’re not a fool, Lizzie. Despite the missing intel, your profile of me was accurate and I know that surprised them. You read me, Lizzie. You inferred knowledge that you should’ve had, just like you inferred that I lost my mother and the story I told you was my own. You have a gift that Ressler doesn’t have and never will. He has spent his whole career studying me and never once came close to catching me. He doesn’t know anything about me that isn’t in that file and couldn’t figure out anything that you did without the information. You beat them, Lizzie. Don’t be angry. Be smart. Use this against them.”

"I thought I knew the worst of what you had done. I thought I knew why you became the man that you did. I thought I knew you. Turns out I'm as woefully under informed by them as I am by you. Every single person in this endeavor has used me to further their own agenda, regardless of how it impacts me or my life. You really think I'm that gifted? It doesn't take a psych degree to figure out that a traumatic event put you on a different path or that you've isolated yourself to keep from getting hurt again. I'm just a pawn being moved on the chessboard one space at a time. The white spaces, I forward my handler's agenda; the black I forward your agenda. All the while my life is falling apart around me and I can't control any of it."

She stood by the window with her back toward him. It seemed that they both gravitated toward the windows and the views they afforded.

"Lizzie..."

He put his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Forget Ressler, the FBI, Cooper, Tom, everything. Talk to me, Lizzie. Tell me."

She sighed deeply, yet she stayed in his arms.

"Tell you what, Ray? You keep asking what I want, but how am I supposed to tell you when I don't know myself? How do I reconcile what my heart wants with my conscience, Ray?"

She turned in his arms, tears falling from her eyes, and took his hands in hers holding them up between them.

"How do I take comfort in the caress of blood stained hands? How do I live with the fact that my soul mate has stolen the souls of countless lives? How do I love and be loved by a man who has saved my life and yet killed others? I'm not supposed to love you, Raymond Reddington, but God help me I do."

He clutched her tightly in his arms, mind processing her words. She was clearly as conflicted as he was, yet at the same time she had called him her soul mate. Her body stilled as she composed herself once again.

"I want you, Ray. I think I can deal with what you've done in the past up to now, but I don't think I can be in an intimate relationship with you while you continue your business as is. I've dealt with it so far as part of the job, but it's messing with my head. The nightmares I have are rooted in the more difficult cases and interlaced with the things I have witnessed you doing. Letting a man run off with a bomb, killing the man who nearly blew our cover, the sound of you tipping the Stewmaker into his own creation. Your presence invades my psyche with the same cavalier manner you carry through life. If it's like this for me now, how much worse will it be when we are together and I know everything?"

Red brought his hands up to frame her face, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks as he softly kissed her lips. Pulling back he questioned her.

"Does this feel wrong to you?"

He watched her carefully and saw the minute shake of her head, so he kissed her again. This time he deepened the kiss and sought entrance to her mouth, continuing to explore her as the tension drained from her body and she relaxed into his arms. He brought her right hand to his heart and held it there.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

A grin played at his lips. He pulled her to him and twirled her around before he settled into a slow rhythm, letting the intimacy between them dissolve all his doubts and fears, until the only thing left was his love for her. They moved together awash in the rays of the sun, simply holding one another; both content to be in the moment.

He felt her breath on his neck, then her lips as her tongue trailed upwards, to the edge of his jaw then back down. He tilted his head to give her better access and was rewarded with her talented mouth sucking and biting the flesh at the base of his neck. A groan of pleasure rose from him as she made her mark, then soothed the tender skin with gentle kisses. White hot desire flooded his body, racing like a current through him until her every touch felt like a surge of pleasure - alive, electric. 

His body urged him to act, but his fascination with everything about her kept him still. He had seen only small glimpses of this side of Liz since he made himself known to her and most of them in the past 48 hours. The way she kissed him last night and approached him in the kitchen this morning suggested that her naïveté didn't extend into the bedroom. In fact, it was becoming clear that she was confident in her sexuality and could turn it on and use it to her advantage even though she chose not to flaunt it in her everyday life. He would submit to her lead and revel in the waves of pleasure from her ministrations.

A sharp bite to his nipple through the white silk button down brought his focus back to her and a jolt to his already stiffening member. Her nails raked down his back firmly before her fingers gently trailed along the bare skin just above the waist of his jeans; the alternating sensations of pleasure and near pain she was creating mirrored the dynamics of their relationship and heightened his awareness of the moment. He felt every touch, heard every sound as if they were amplified. He felt connected to her in a way he hadn't been with anyone else since his wife. She had awakened his emotions, his very soul and he knew there was no turning back. He was tied to her and at her mercy. Vulnerable to all the things he swore he would never be subject to again.

He shuddered as she whispered his name along his skin, unbuttoning his shirt and trailing her lips and tongue down his torso. His hands found her hair and gently guided her back up so he could kiss her again. He grasped at the edge of her shirt seeking to divest her of it, silently asking permission. Her arms raised in the air and he pulled back to watch as her skin was revealed to him, inch by inch. He hummed his approval at the beauty of the woman before him and gently smoothed his hands from the top of her yoga pants up to her ribs, then around to her back to release her lace bra. He slowly removed the bra, raising chill bumps on her flesh as his fingers trailed along her arms and let it fall from his fingertips to the floor.

"You're exquisite, Elizabeth."

His eyes roamed over her pale skin illuminated by the sunlight and followed the curve of her breast, the planes of her stomach. He was still in awe that she would desire him as much as he does her. What did she want with a man nearly 20 years her senior whose body was soft and beginning to sag from too many years of gravity pulling it down to the earth? Whatever it was, he would be eternally grateful for however long they would be together.

Her hands were on him again, followed by her lips once more tracing a path down his torso. This time she sunk to her knees and popped the buttons on his jeans one at a time until his swollen cock was only hidden by his silk boxers. She helped him step out of the jeans as he steadied himself with a hand on her shoulder. His eyes closed and his head fell back as her nails drew up the backs of his calves. She flattened her palms as they drew slowly upward to his ass, pulling him to her and mouthing his dick through the boxers. He grunted his approval and wound his hand in her hair to maintain contact with her, allowing her to set her own pace. Hot breath assaulted him while her hands found their way up the shorts clawing at his cheeks, once again alternating between pleasure and the very edge of pain. His knees grew weak under her attentions.

"Come, Lizzie. Let's get more comfortable before this old man loses his balance and breaks his hip."

Getting up with the grace of a feline, she firmly smacks him on the ass then kisses him.

"Enough with the Father Time lamentations. It doesn't become you. You're a sexy, charming, devilish man and quite aware of the effect you have on women and on me."

She pushed him back toward the oversized couch and he walked backwards until his legs hit the couch and flopped down. His hungry eyes watched the fluid movement of her body - naked from the waist up, nipples hard and eyes darkened with desire. He let his hand move to his boxers, undoing the small button and pulling out his shaft to give it some much needed attention. Her tongue darted out when she saw him handling himself and proceeded to turn around and give him a view of her ass as she slowly wriggled out of them, leaving them behind on the floor. His breath caught and his hand stilled as he watched her move in the sunlight, a natural spotlight that shined down on her performance.

"Raymond..."

Gazes locked, his voice dropped when he answered her.

"Hmmm?"

"Do you like what you see?"

"What does the evidence suggest, Agent Keen?"

She continued her advance on him, one excruciatingly slow step at a time.

"Visual evidence would indicate a positive reaction, but a full blown investigation is required for confirmation."

He couldn't stifle the grin on his face. Not only was she putting on one hell of a show and playing along with his banter, she was positively sultry and dropping blatant innuendo. This was definitely not the Lizzie conjured by his imagination. 

"Do you have a warrant, Agent?"

"One isn't necessary for items in plain view and I can clearly see the object of my impending investigation, Mr. Reddington. Did they not cover that in your Crime 101 class?"

"I'll take your word for it. Are you going to cuff me during this investigation of yours?"

She kept moving toward him and stopped just out of his reach.

"I don't think that'll be necessary in light of your continued cooperation with the agency. Put your arms up on the back of the couch so I can see your hands."

He complied and waved his hands a bit to make a show of it. A growl tore from him as she straddled his lap and proceeded to grind her silk covered sex along his length. He felt her breasts against his skin and gasped when she took his ear lobe firmly in her teeth. She was pushing all the right buttons and it was all he could do to continue to submit to her wonderful torture instead of flipping the tables on her. She whispered in his ear.

"For the first part, I'm going to make myself cum on your dick...but there are a couple rules for you to follow. One - keep your hands where they are. Two - you're not allowed to cum yet. Any questions?"

He just shook his head, trying to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught he's about to receive. He hasn't had sex with anyone since embarking on this joint task with the FBI and he would most certainly blow his load if he didn't so something to distract himself. Name the countries he's visited. Recite the blacklist names. Anything to...his mind blanks completely as she begins to grind herself on his shaft. Fortunately, the panties she's wearing are high quality silk which glide along his skin painlessly.

He moans her name, struggling to come up with something, anything in his mind that will stave off the orgasm that is rapidly building. A picture of Donald Ressler comes to mind and it does the trick, he turns his focus back on to her...flushed skin, beads of sweat forming on her nose and brow, irregular movements. He can tell her own orgasm is approaching and decides that she hasn't forbade him speaking to her.

"That's it, Lizzie. I can smell you getting wet for me. You're so close, baby. Cum for me."

She strokes herself on him a few more times and cums with his name on her lips. He can feel her pulsing heat through the silk and brings to mind Ressler briefly to keep himself from cumming with her. Sweat dampens the strands of hair framing her face and he brushes them back, noting the flush of her cheeks. Pulling her to him, he kisses her soundly and trails his lips across her skin to her ear. He moves his hand down to her warm, moist center and purrs in her ear.

"That was fucking hot, Lizzie. You're so wet for me." He fingers her clit, making her sensitive body jolt. "So responsive." He dips a finger into her center, pressing the hidden bundle of nerves. She opens her eyes and meets his in surprise when he withdraws his hand. Holding her gaze, he wraps his tongue around the finger coated with her essence, takes it completely in his mouth and draws it out savoring the flavor. "So fucking good." 

He winks at her, waiting for whatever she has planned. 

"Are you willing to do what I tell you?"

"You are my handler, Agent Keen."

"Precisely why the question needs to be asked and answered, Mr. Reddington.

He chuckles, knowing that he would do anything she said in this room under these conditions.

"Yes, I will do what you ask during the remainder of your inve-"

His ability to speak left him as he felt her warm mouth take him from head to base without warning. His addled brain can't process when she changed positions. He grabs for her head, unable to make words come out of his mouth, and pulls her off of him gasping for breath. 

"Something wrong?"

He looks at her knowing smile, still trying to get his bearings.

"Yes, no. Everything is right...too right. Your last standing instruction was not to cum and I can't follow it when you do that. It's been too long and..."

He feels her fingers on his lips and stops his babbling. He would be embarrassed but for the immense buzz of pleasure still running through his body. The sight of her topless, on her knees between his legs, hair mussed and lips swollen almost does him in on the spot. His saving grace that she isn't touching him other than resting her hands on his knees.

"I see. There's only one way to handle this then."

Before he could react, her mouth was on him again, teeth dragging down his length until he felt his head breach her throat and it constrict around him. He came hard down her throat, dick pulsing as his seed erupted and hips jerked. Everything faded out except the intensity of his orgasm. Slowly he became aware again of his surroundings and the reality of what just happened hit him. She was on his lap leaning against him, seemingly unaware of his growing discomfort.

"Lizzie, I'm so sorry..."

"For what?"

"I don't usually...what I mean to say is that..."

He was mortified at his lack of control and how rough he was with her. For once he was at a loss for words.

"There's nothing to apologize for. I knew what was going to happen, although it was a bit more intense than I anticipated."

"You deserve better than some guy forcing himself down your throat and cumming like some two-bit porn star."

He wouldn't meet her eyes, instead focusing on a painting across the room and wondering how this beautiful creature is still in his arms after that less than stellar performance. She shifted around until she was once again straddling his lap.

"Ray." He reluctantly met her eyes. "What happened was my choice. You gave me fair warning and to be quite honest, it made me feel powerful to make you lose control the way you did. That was more than just overload from not having sex. It was raw and pure and probably the most honest reaction I have ever seen from you. It's like someone brought your picture into focus. There's no more tension in your face and you seem to be relaxed, open in a way that you've never been with me."

Feeling emotionally safe in a way he hasn't for many years, he has completely let his guard down and allowed his emotions to run free. It was liberating to be able to just be. He wasn't sure who he was in this regard, but they would learn together.

"I've not been open with anyone...not in a very long time. I feel safe with you. I trust you."

His words were barely above a whisper. He was not accustomed to confessing such truths to anyone. The softness in her eyes and the smile on her face told him everything he needed to know.

"Ray?"

She shifted her weight and he realized that she was now completely naked, the warmth of her core resting on his stiffening cock. He didn't normally rebound this quickly, but the circumstances are far from what constitutes normality for him.

"Hmm?"

"Make love to me."

She rolled her hips and kissed him soundly. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he took her at her word and focused on Lizzie and her request.

"Lock your legs around my waist, Lizzie."

After a false start, he got up with her clinging to him and walked to his bedroom, enjoying the feel of her skin upon his. He set her on the bed and watched as she scooted back to the head of the bed and waited for him. He disposed of his watch, glasses, boxers and shirt, then pulled the shades down enough to soften the light in the room and moved forward until his knees touched the end of the bed.

"This feels too good to be true. I don't deserve you, Lizzie, not by a longshot. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and find that this has all just been played out in my dreams. I'm afraid of going back to being alone."

He moved up the bed to her, stretched out her legs and settled himself between them.

"My turn..."

He ran his lips up the inside of her thigh and groaned as her scent overloaded his senses. He let his tongue trace a path to her core and inhaled deeply before he tasted her for the first time. She was intoxicating and he couldn't get enough of her. She writhed and moaned as he alternated between tongue fucking her and toying with her clit. He brought her to the edge twice and eased her back down before he began a full on assault. He had two fingers in her core, one teasing her ass while he sucked and licked her past the point of her tolerance. She chanted his name between curses and affirmations, body shuddering and jerking in an orgasm that he sustained for what seemed an eternity. 

She lost coherence after about a minute and still he continued his ministrations, easing the pressure as her sensitivity rose. He studied her, wondering if she was experiencing one long orgasm or several, one right after another. It would take more experimentation to be sure, but for now he finally drew off and let her body and mind recover. 

He crawled up to her, kissing along her stomach and each of her breasts. Her muscles twitched and tensed beneath him and his fully hardened length lay on her center. He smiled as she finally opened her eyes and met him with a smile of her own.

"Ray..."

He was kissing and nipping at her neck when she tried to get his attention, but he would not be deterred. He continued to explore her body, open and warm, committing everything he could to memory.

"Raaaaay..."

He finally stopped what he was doing and looked at her when she purred his name.

"That was positively mind blowing. I had no idea your mouth was that talented, but I should have. You're good at everything."

Her words were a breathy whisper.

"I'm glad you thi-."

His words cut off when she took his dick and teased her clit and core with the head, preparing to take him in.

"Fuck me, Ray."

He pushed into her, just to the head and withdrew.

"Say it again, Lizzie."

"Fuck me, Raymond."

He pushed into her warmth again, tight around his cock and stopped just a little farther in.

"Tell me what you want, Lizzie."

He searched her eyes as she spoke, finding sincerity and love reflected in them.

"I want you all the way in me. I wanna hear you say my name when you cum in me. I want you to make love to me, wrap me in the security of your love and hold me in your arms as I drift off to sleep. Show me the truth of the words you spoke to me, Raymond. Show me the man you want to be."

He slid all the way into her and gasped when she tightened around him. He felt her heels tap him and began to move at a steady pace, thrusting into her while his mouth explored her body and whispered his devotion. He heard her breath catch as he filled her, felt her heart race beneath his lips and shuddered as the intimacy of the moment enveloped him. He buried his face in her neck and stilled himself.

"Ray?" Her voice was soft and her arms came up around him, holding him to her. "Ray, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, it's just that I haven't done this, haven't allowed myself to feel with anyone for so long."

He began moving in and out of her again, meeting her eyes.

"You feel so good, Lizzie, so right."

He kissed her thoroughly, then sped up his movements and watched the pleasure play across her features. He found an angle that made her body twitch beneath him and held it. Her heels urged him to thrust harder, faster. She clutched at his arms and back, grasping for purchase as he drove into her. He could feel her body tense and knew she was ready to cum.

"Let go, Liz"

She chanted his name as she reached her climax, body trembling and jerking beneath his. He felt her muscles flutter around his cock and knew he couldn't stop his own climax. He continued to thrust into her, his movements becoming erratic until he found his own climax calling her name. He held his weight off of her, but stayed close not wanting to break contact. He reached over to his drawer and pulled out a small towel as he finally slipped out. He took care of them both, discarded the towel and gathered her into his arms, He pulled her body flush to his and secured his arm around her middle. 

"Thank you, Lizzie."

"For what?"

"Everything...seeing me with an open mind, your candor, trusting me, making me feel whole again, the intimacy. All of it, my love."

He released her as she turned in his arms and closed his eyes when she put her palm on his cheek. 

"What happened earlier, when you stopped...did I do something wrong?"

His eyes snapped open at her question and although he didn't really know what to say about it, saying nothing at all would leave her with the wrong impression.

"Absolutely not. You have to understand, after my family's death I changed. I turned my back on everyone and everything I knew when I chose to live this life. No one carried over into the new life. Once I had buried the past and locked it away, I thought I could find a companion, but it didn't work out that way. I couldn't leave myself open to that in this lifestyle and I wouldn't live a lie to have it, so I closed myself off emotionally. I had sex, but never outside the rules I set."

He sighed, not wanting to bring his past into the bed with them, but she clearly wanted him to continue even if she didn't say so.

"These rules were mainly to protect me - from emotions, vulnerability and from those who would seek to take advantage of me in a weakened state. No kissing, no eye contact, always use protection, only partial nudity and no sleeping or staying overnight. What we shared today is everything I have been purposely avoiding and it was a bit overwhelming, to be frank."

"That explains a lot. This puts us both at risk, doesn't it?"

"I won't lie to you...it puts us both in a precarious position, but it isn't insurmountable. We need to have several discussions and start implementing plans of action to make this transition."

"I left a message with my lawyer yesterday about starting divorce proceedings with Tom. From what was said last night, he may put up a fight to drag things out but I thought we might persuade him to take the path of least resistance."

He was genuinely shocked by her statement and wondered what she would persuade Tom with since she didn't know what he knew about Tom.

"And how might we do that?"

"I figured with all the warnings about Tom, you had something we could use as leverage, although I don't think I necessarily want to know what that might be."

"I won't have secrets between us Elizabeth, especially concerning Tom. You need to go through my complete file...there are things in there you need to know and that may change your mind. Also, while we're on this topic...I'm not going to continue my relationship with the FBI now that we're together. I won't force you to hide what we have and I can't put you in those situations if we are public knowledge."

"Agreed on all counts, although I will miss my job."

He smiled, pleased by her reaction thus far.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You still have some heavy reading to do, but if you're still willing I think we can put your skills as an agent to good use."

He kissed her and pulled her back into his arms as she stifled a yawn.

"Sleep, Lizzie. Get some rest. I'll make dinner later and we can go over the file."

"Mmmm. It feels so good to be in your arms. I wish we could just shut out the world for the rest of our lives."

"As do I."

Liz settled in, her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep in his arms, just like she wanted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of this story. I have an idea for an epilogue, but I'm afraid it will turn into something much longer. I will mark this complete and post the epilogue if it comes to fruition or a sequel if the muse decides to play. I appreciate the comments and kudos...thanks for reading :)

His mind turned over the events of the afternoon and how it felt to finally make love to someone again. To allow himself to feel again. To have a woman, all warm and smelling of sex fall asleep in his arms. He felt human again, normal. He also realized that he failed to wear a condom and it felt good to have no barrier between him and Lizzie. He knew that he and Lizzie were clean medically since he was tested regularly and he knew that she went through testing in the bureau, but he didn't know why they were adopting. Could she not get pregnant or was it too dangerous for her? Did she just not want to go through having a baby because of her career or was it him that was the problem with conception? He felt guilty and stupid it for not taking care of it, but didn't he also trust her? Surely she would've said something if he needed to cover up. 

He would ask her about it later. For now, he started laying out in his mind what needed to be done for them. First on his list was letting Luli go. While she was a trusted asset, they had sex off an on through the years and he didn't want to complicate the present with the past. He really didn't know if Lizzie knew or not, but their lives would be complicated enough without adding a former lover to it. Dembe would stay, since he trusted him completely with his own affairs and with Lizzie's life. Then there was the matter of Lizzie's job and his arrangement with the FBI. If they left at the same time it would be suspicious, but he didn't want to leave her on her own after he broke things off. Perhaps he would have her resign first then drop the arrangement because of her absence. She could move away citing the divorce and they could meet up once the FBI leaves her alone when it is clear she is dealing with personal issues. That might work, but there is still the small matter of his complete file casting a shadow upon their future. He needed to close any open deals and decide how to transition into a legal business. He had tried to retire, but never did well with idle time. With his skills and Lizzie's training and natural ability for sizing people up, he thought they had enough to develop a sound business if they could find the right niche. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by her lips on his chest leaving a trail of kisses hot across his skin. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, enjoying the simple pleasure that he had so long denied himself. She rested her head on his shoulder and looked at him with a small grin tugging at her lips.

"I could get used to this, Ray."

"As could I. Just having you in bed beside me is more that I ever thought I would experience with you."

"You know, we still have this spectre lurking between us and our future. Why don't you just tell me what I need to know?"

"I could tell you what I believe is the worst of what I have done, but that type of assessment is a matter of perspective. You must read it cover to cover and then decide if you can still deal with everything I have done."

He rolled over on his back and put his hands behind his head, sighing deeply. He had decided long ago that he wouldn't dwell on what the end results were of the transactions he made, but the idea that Lizzie will put it all together has him sick to his stomach. He can't help but look at his life for the past twenty years from her perspective and it's damning. The atrocities he facilitated both directly and indirectly are too many to count.

"You once called me a monster..."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"You were right Lizzie. That's what I was. That's what I am. You will see soon enough."

She rolled on top of him and propped herself up on his chest.

"Let me ask you something...do you still intend on continuing your current form of employment?"

"Certainly not. You said that you couldn't be with me under those circumstances. To be honest, I wouldn't ask it of you even if it weren't a condition of yours. It's not a lifestyle for anyone with personal attachments."

"I will read your complete file, but it won't change my mind. I am in love with the man I know, here before me. What you were is not who you are today. The time we have worked together and everything you've shared with me has taught me that."

"I admire your resolve, but I'll wait until you've read the file."

He rolled her over and settled his body over hers so that most of the weight wouldn't bear down on her. He kissed her thoroughly, in case it was the last time he would do so. He felt himself stiffening as he rubbed against her center and wondered if she would be up for another round. He couldn't help but feel this was the end of what had begun between them and he wanted to be with her again.

"Ready for round three, Ray?"

"Ready, willing and able. Answer a question for me?"

"Sure."

"We didn't use protection. Will that be a problem?"

Her expression fell, revealing a great sadness in her eyes. Apparently, this was a touchy subject for her.

"No, I'm clean and I assumed that you were as well, knowing your meticulous nature."

He nodded. The next logical question was on the tip of his tongue, but she had shown him a great deal of restraint when she tread on difficult subject matters for him and he would return the same courtesy to her. He watched her closely, as she revealed then closed off the sadness that his question provoked.

"I can't have children of my own."

He could tell there was more to the story, but still he didn't press her despite a deep need to know why and if it was because of any harm done to her. Not really sure what to say, he positioned himself at her entrance and waited for her to respond. Her legs wrapping around his waist told him all he needed to know as he slid only his head into her. He gave much needed attention to her breasts and nipples; pinching, nipping and sucking until she was writhing and moaning. He kissed up to her neck and ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth as he withdrew and pushed into her a little farther.

"God, you're so wet for me already you beautiful, sexy creature. You deserve to be cherished each and every day." He let out a moan, deep and wanton, when he filled her completely and felt her legs holding him still while she flexed around his shaft in a slow rhythm. "Oh fuck, Lizzie, that's just-"

He could no longer process words as she pulsed around him, so he grabbed her hand and brought it to her clit.

"Touch yourself, Lizzie. Take your fingers and rub your clit while my dick is in your wet pussy. Feel my dick twitch and throb inside you as your walls clamp down around it. I'm so fucking hard for you...I want you to fuck yourself with your hand until cum all over my dick. Fuck Lizzie, you're so tight and warm and wet. Cum for me, baby."

He felt her body tense and arch beneath him as her orgasm ripped through her and his name fell from her lips. She lay limp under him, breathing curses and moaning until he started to move. Knowing she was already sensitive from her orgasm, he found the angle that made her twitch with pleasure earlier and drove into her hard and fast. All she could do was gasp every time he thrust in her and soon was cumming again, letting out an animalistic moan that could probably be heard down the street. He continued driving into her a few more times before he reached his own climax and collapsed next to her. 

"Lizzie?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel about delivery for dinner?"

"You've earned the night off...besides, you need to save your strength for later."

He laughed with her and gave her another towel from the drawer.

"You can have the shower first...I'd join you, but I don't think I can stand just yet." 

He turned his head to watch her.

"Why do you have all those towels in your bedside table?"

"Sometimes I have nightmares and wake up sweating, so they are handy to have. I've also been known to put them under a cold water bottle to protect the finish."

She got up and went to her room across the hall. He figured she would shower in there, but returned to his room with a change of clothes and a small bag. He raised an eyebrow as she walked past, curious as to why she came back.

"I just wanted to be closer to you. Will you join me now?"

"Of course."

He slowly eased himself off the bed. While not completely out of shape, he definitely wasn't used to this level of sexual activity and his lesser used muscles and joints were starting to protest. He smirked at her gasp when she entered the bathroom. It was on par with many if the upscale resorts he frequented, but the centerpiece was the marble shower complete with a dozen different shower heads, benches and opaque glass that let in the natural light.

"It's beautiful, Ray."

"Everything was existing except for the shower heads."

He turned on the water to let it get warm, approaching her from behind to embrace her. Their eyes met in the mirror as he put one hand on her breast and let the other drift down her stomach to her center. She leaned her head back on his shoulder as his fingers pushed their way through the small patch of hair to her clit. His middle finger teased the small bundle of nerves gently, while he watched her body respond to him in the mirror.

"Look at me, Lizzie."

Her half lidded eyes met his.

"Show me how to get you off."

He bit her earlobe, not breaking eye contact, waiting for her to respond. When she didn't, he took her hand in his and brought it down to her center. He turned his hand so hers was resting atop his and moved back to her clit. Finally taking the hint, she guided his fingers to her clit and used her hand to direct his pressure and movements to her liking. He whispered encouragement to her as he watched her open her stance and squat a bit for better access. She sped up his movements and started tensing as her orgasm approached. He wrapped his free arm around her torso and held on to her as she reached her climax. 

"Beautiful."

She smiled at him, then turned and kissed him. He followed her into the shower stall and sat on a bench in front of a water jet, watching the water run along the curves of her form. He wondered how he came to have someone like her in his life and hoped that what she claimed would be true. That his past, no matter how offensive to her, wouldn't push her away. He was addicted to this openness with her...the sex and the emotions, even though it had only been a matter of hours. Losing her at this point would devastate him. He knew that, but it was too late so he resolved to give her as much pleasure as he could between now and the time that she left him, if it came to that.

Once she had washed her hair, he sat her up on the top of the shelf intended for things like soap and shampoo. He shifted his position and propped her legs on his shoulders so he could go down on her. He kissed up the inside of her leg and goosebumps raised on her skin even though the water was hot. He groaned as he ran his tongue along her center then into her core. Her legs tightened around his head and shoulders as he teased and probed her sex.

"Oh God, Ray. That feels so good."

His senses were on overload. The heat. The smell of the shampoo and her sex. The water trailing down his skin. Her nails gently moving over his scalp. Her voice echoing off the marble. The taste of her flooding his mouth. The steam curling around them. It all combined to create a dreamlike state. It was unlike anything he had imagined with anyone, much less the object of his devotion spread out before him. He used his mouth to worship her body, giving her as much pleasure as he could until she reached her climax breathless and chanted his name. He would never tire of hearing her call his name in the throes of the pleasure he gave her.

Gasping for breath and trembling as she came down from her high, she reached out for him. He took her in his arms and brought her to his lap. She straddled him, hugging him and burying her face in his neck. 

"You're spoiling me, Ray."

"No more than you deserve, my love. As much as I would love to stay here, we'll soon run out of hot water."

She nodded and got up, finishing her shower and he did the same. Once dried off and dressed again, they headed downstairs to the kitchen. He placed the file in front of her and started looking through the fridge for something to make for dinner, discarding his earlier idea of ordering in. He winced at the sound of the file hitting the counter, knowing that she had opened it and begun to read. It was disconcerting for him to be doing something as prosaic as making dinner while she was scrutinizing his life history as reported by the alphas. His stomach turned and he really didn't feel like eating or cooking, but he needed to occupy himself so he decided on pasta. He glanced at her as he moved about, her brow furrowed and a frown pulled at her lips. They continued this way until he placed a plate before her along with a glass of red wine. She met his eyes and he noted the sadness and empathy in them, probably from reading the horrifying events that comprised the loss of his family.

Bringing his own plate and wine to the table, he sat down across from her but made no move to eat. His appetite had dissipated when he gave her the file and it had not yet returned. He pushed the noodles around with his fork, avoiding the elephant in the room and leaving it up to her to break the silence between them.

"I'm truly sorry, Ray, about your family. I had no idea..."

Her voice trailed off as the words died on her lips. They both knew there was nothing to say that could make any difference, but her sincerity was a balm to him; taking the edge off the pain and melancholy that accompanied those memories.

"I appreciate the sentiment."

"Dinner is delicious. Thanks."

He nodded and she ate slowly, glancing at him with concern. He could tell she had questions, even though she remained silent. He couldn't entertain them now, with everything between them once again on uncertain terms. It was too much.  
"I know you have questions about what happened to my girls, Lizzie. I can see it in your eyes and I will answer them in due time, but I can't right now. Not with..."

She cut him off. "Understood."

Unable to sit still any longer, he drained the rest of the wine from his glass and took his dishes to the kitchen. He stood at the sink, shoulders hunched over, eyes downcast, and staring at nothing in particular. It wasn't long before he felt her presence in the room and her palms tracing his back then winding around his waist. He felt her head settle against him and felt her sigh as she embraced him. He turned around in her arms and held on to her, content to hold and be held.

"Ray, are you sure about the file? You seem very uncomfortable."

He moved so he could meet her gaze. As much as he didn't want her to read it, he knew that there had to be no secrets between them and where she is an open book he's the opposite.

"Yes, I'm sure. And yes, I'm very uncomfortable. We need this, Lizzie. You need to know exactly who I am."

"Alright, then. I will finish this tonight. No matter how long it takes and then we will put it in the past where it belongs. 

Agreed?"

"Yes, if you are willing. If you aren't, you are free to go and I won't pursue you. It's your decision to make."

She nodded and grabbed the file off the table. She took his hand and led him upstairs to the dome room to complete her reading. He found the book he had started a couple weeks ago and settled in beside her to wait. Having read the same page about 4 times, he abandoned all pretense of reading and focused on her instead. She was definitely Agent Keen at the moment, her schooled features giving nothing away for him to gauge her reactions. She was moving through the file at a steady pace and without distraction, which was impressive given the contents of his dossier. He continued to observe her while she read. If she was aware of his scrutiny, she didn't acknowledge it. When she was half way through the file, she turned to him.

"Would you mind getting us something to drink? Some hot tea would be nice."

He returned her smile and got up to go to the kitchen, taking her outstretched hand in his briefly as he walked by her. Grateful for the distraction, he made his way to the kitchen and began preparations for the tea. Not knowing yet how she took hers, he gathered lemon, honey, milk and sugar in small amounts on a tray while he waited for the water to boil. He had several varieties of tea so he added a couple of each to the tray as well. After what seemed like an eternity, the kettle finally whistled its completion and he poured it into the teapot. Satisfied with his selections, he placed the cups, saucers and spoons on the tray and brought it upstairs to her.

"Wow. Whatever you chose would have been fine, Ray, but thanks."

He nodded, pleased at the sincerity of her words and the fact that she didn't seem to be pulling away from him yet. 

"That's quite alright. It was no trouble. May I ask what year you're on?"

"2000. So far it's pretty much what I expected from a top tenner."

He nodded, knowing that she hasn't yet seen the worst of what he had done, but was about to. His mind drifted back to the decisions he had made and what the consequences were. He was brought out of his reverie by her hand upon his.

"Would you rather tell me, Ray?"

He pursed his lips as he considered her offer. Deciding against telling her himself, he answered her.

"No, I want you to read it as you would have if those idiots would have given you the correct file in the first place. If you have questions about anything other than the loss of my family, I will answer them as honestly as I can."

She nodded and removed her hand from his to return to the file. His eyes never left her as she approached the what turned out to be the worst thing he had ever done. One by one she flipped the pages of the file, drawing closer to the despicable act that would turn her away. His stomach knotted and waves of nausea assaulted him, but his eyes never left her; vigilant and searching for a sign of her response. 

The color drained from her face and he knew what she was reading. He waited. The file slipped from her hands to her lap, but she remained still. He waited. A single tear fell from her eye. He wanted to hold her. To explain that he didn't know what the consequences of his actions would mean. To beg for an absolution that he didn't deserve. He waited. Unmoving, she finally spoke to him.

"You did this?"

"Yes."

"You gave these men identities to live here in the states?"

"Yes."

"Got them entrance to university and flight schools. Gave them clean identities to travel with?"

"Yes."

"These are the men who hijacked the planes on 9/11."

He nodded. Her shock was much the same as his own had been when he read this file. He made it a point never to know the identities created for people and more often than not he doesn't know the identity of the person he is providing them for. When he saw the connections the FBI made between him and the hijackers, he was devastated. There were a lot of things, evil things, that happened as a result of his involvement in certain dealings and transactions, but never on that scale. He couldn't sweep that one aside as he had so many others. It gnawed at his conscience. It haunted his dreams. It sat in the back of his mind every single day since he found out.

"Tell me, Ray. Tell me that you didn't knowingly help these men commit the worst terrorist attack on American soil."

"I found out the same way you did, Lizzie. Reading it in the file. I have made justifications for many things in my life to be able to function, but not for this. I told you earlier that I have nightmares. That is what I have nightmares about. The thousands of people who lost their lives in part because of a run of the mill business deal for me years ago. Had I known what these men would do, I would never had agreed to the deal. They came to me through a third party with false names and I provided another set of identities for them, as the file shows. Just another link in the long chain of events leading up to that fateful day."

Elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply. He was learning to compartmentalize this aspect of his life and the turmoil it brought, but he wasn't always successful. Having her beside him with his file made it impossible to stave off the guilt, shame, regret, anger and remorse that flooded his system when he thought about what he had done and the ramifications of those decisions. Staring at the floor, he continued.

"Like most in this country, I watched the coverage of what happened over the years. Saw the moments relived on television and put into perspective. I watched people come together and then drift apart as the years wore on and complacency set in. I struggled to imagine the loss of those who never found the remains of their loved ones; for whom closure would most likely never come. I mourned the loss of so many distantly as an observer and despised those who had committed those atrocities. I did all that without knowing the small, but integral part I played in this madness. Perhaps if I said no they would have found another to give them what I did, but I can't escape the fact that it was me and not someone else."

His eyes closed when he felt her hand on his shoulder. Uncertainty coursed through his system as he struggled to reign in his own emotions and to read hers.

"There's one other thing that I would like to know."

Still unwilling to meet her eyes, he nodded.

"How did all this play into what you are doing now with the FBI?"

"I decided to make this arrangement with the FBI before I knew about my own connection to 9/11. As I told you earlier, you were the one who inspired me to start the blacklist and join forces with the FBI to bring down the worst of the worst. After reading the file, I also altered how I handle the identity portion of my operation and decreased it dramatically. It cut into my funds, but I won't repeat the same mistake."

"Okay."

He watched in confusion as she picked up the file and seemed to be reading again. She never ceased to surprise him and this was not what he expected her to do. Unsure of what to say, he slumped back into the corner of the couch and resumed his watch over her; grateful that, for the moment, she was still there. Unsure of how much time passed, his eyes moved over her as she set the file aside and stretched.

"I need a short break..."

She got up and left the room, so he glanced at the file laid out on the couch to find out where she was in her reading. She had moved quickly through the second half of the file as she was now in 2011. Since they always organized things according to timelines, she was nearly done. It should have been a relief, but he was more on edge now that another decision out of his control was rapidly approaching. He couldn't imagine her staying with him now that she knew nearly everything about his career and the type of man he had become. Some people rise to greatness out of tragedy and others sink into darkness. She rose above the adversity in her life and he did just the opposite. The blacklist was meant to correct some of the wrongs he had done and to add to the greater good by eliminating some of the worst people he had encountered or dealt with. The reality turned out to be a lesser version of the ideal as he continued in his daily business and committed more crimes along the way. He sighed, let his head fall to the back of the couch and closed his eyes as his thoughts drifted to the time they have spent together over the past day.

He felt her presence when she came back into the room and picked up the file once more. She didn't say anything and he didn't move, preferring to recall how it felt to hold her next to him as she slept in his arms. The memory calmed his nerves while he waited for her to finish the file and distracted him from the doubts growing stronger with each passing minute. She finally closed the file and set it on the floor beside the sofa. A moment passed where neither moved, neither spoke and a heavy silence settled between them. Resignation took hold of him when the silence stretched on and the distance between them, though mere inches, seemed endless. He wanted to reach out to her, to speak to her but was afraid that any move on his part would break the impasse and she would leave; coming full circle to the same feeling he had when she first showed up here Friday afternoon. He glanced up toward the dome and realized that it was now dark. He quietly got up from the sofa and crossed the room to turn off the lights and close the door, revealing the night sky through the dome. The full moon made the room glow and the stars peeked out from the black sky.

"Look up, Elizabeth."

He chose to use her given name since he didn't know where they stood with one another, which caused her to turn her head toward him. She gave him a quizzical look and he pointed to the dome, crossing back to the sofa. Unsure whether to sit next to her or not, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and remained standing a distance away.

"You can still call me Lizzie and you can come sit down. I'm not leaving."

He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. As he approached her, she reached out for his hand and pulled him down next to her when he took it in his own. She put her arms around him, coaxing him to lean back with his head on her shoulder. He brought his hands to hers, entwined their fingers together and let himself relax into her embrace.

"The view is spectacular. I think if this were my house I would sleep in here on occasion."

"It is and I have been known to drag an air mattress in here when I have no engagements the following day. Once the moon moves out of the dome area the stars will show up even better."

"Ray, what I read...it's a lot to take in."

"I know. When I realized that you didn't know parts of my history, I knew that you would need to see the whole file. I would never have chosen to start any relationship with you in such a manner. I honestly thought you knew. I didn't want to go much further into this with you until you learned all there is to know."

He felt her hands tighten briefly around his and he brought one up to his mouth to kiss it. He felt her kiss his temple and sighed at the contact, grateful that she was still with him. 

"Ray?"

"Yes..."

"I don't like what I read."

"I know, Lizzie. Somehow reading it all together like that makes the reality of it hit home, more so than living it one day at a time."

"Are you really willing to leave this life behind for me?"

"If you mean my life as a criminal, then yes, but not just for you. It won't work unless I want to do it and I have already taken a major step in that direction with the blacklist. I want to do it for you and for us, but I have to do it for me. That being said, I don't expect to give up the money I've acquired or the luxuries I'm accustomed to and can provide for you. We don't have to live garishly, but we don't have to live like paupers either. I must warn you though...I have been living alone for nearly 20 years and I don't really know how well I will make the transition into a relationship as a couple, as roommates, or as friends. I can be pushy, possessive, controlling and very cold. I don't want to hurt you."

"If you're going to leave the life of 'The Concierge of Crime" behind, then we can work together on the rest of it. It'll take time, hard work, patience, forgiveness and love. It won't be easy, but I think we can make a go of it."

He stood up, held out his hands and pulled her up into his embrace. He hugged her to him tightly and kissed her, relishing the taste and feel of her in his arms once again. 

"Say it again, Lizzie."

"I think we can make a go of it,"

"I'll do my level best to make you happy, Elizabeth. To provide for your needs. To make you feel safe. To put you first in my life. To cherish you and not take you for granted. To love you every day for the rest of my life."

He brushed away the tear that fell down her cheek and held her close. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he felt lighthearted for the first time in a long time. They were at the start of their journey together and even though it would be a bumpy road for them at the outset, he had hope for their future. 

fin


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A look at our couple 6 months down the road. Vague mention of domestic abuse, drunkeness and child abuse...if that bothers you then wave off for this chapter.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

Six months have passed since the day that Lizzie told him she wanted to be with him. In that time she was granted a swift divorce made possible by a judge she knew and a set of photographs she used to convince Tom to play nice. She left the FBI with a nice severance package and reimbursement for job related trauma, citing PTSD after the Stewmaker incident. While the claims were true, she wouldn't have left the employ of the bureau as a result of them. It still amazed him that she left everything she knew to make a new life with him.

He drew in a deep breath and stood up from the deck chair to lean on the railing overlooking their pool and the valley. He rented a chateaux in Sainte-Mondane, France while they were in transition mode. With a population of less than 250 people, they would be afforded their privacy while they established who they were, what they did and where they wanted to settle. They spent a long weekend twice a month traveling to different areas of Europe, using his knowledge and the internet (in a larger neighboring town) to plan the trips to her desired destinations. Her travels were limited to the US and Canada, so he used these times to fulfill her desire to see Europe and search for a more permanent residence as they continued their transition into their new life together. 

There were a few bumps in the road as they adjusted to living in the same house and sharing the same room. He had to make a considered effort not to shut her out when his demons haunted him and he wanted nothing more than to wallow in self pity alone in the dark. It was the cause of several heated discussions and one major argument before a truce was called. She agreed to give him a day alone if he agreed to get up and go about his day instead of brooding in a darkened room. He also conceded to tell her what was bothering him the following day. After a rough start that consisted of four days locked in a room, one day of stubbornness that had him sitting in a different room dressed, and a single sentence to her the following day that he was just bothered by his past, he found that his bouts of melancholy didn't last as long and became less frequent once he learned to open up to her and actually spoke about what bothered him. He thought about asking her if she wanted to go back to school and seek a degree in psychology, given her success with him in such a short period of time.

She, in turn, had to learn how not to smother him when he went quiet on her. Used to being alone, he often doesn't realize that he has stopped communicating with her and prefers silence to unnecessary conversation. A quick study, she learned that the best way to coax him out of the silences was to simply touch him. A hand on the shoulder, sitting next to him on the couch, or a kiss on the cheek; something physical but gentle that told him she was there and would like his attention. There were several other areas that were challenges, but so far they managed to overcome them with minimal damage to their growing relationship. 

He smiled as he thought about how far they had come in a few short months together and how enjoyable it was for him to be able to have a partner again. Someone he could trust and love. Someone to support him and comfort him. Someone he could do those things for and more. He was happy with her; content in a way he'd never been, even with his first wife. He attributed that to his maturity and life experiences affording him a greater appreciation of their relationship. Memories of his wife and child often surfaced when he reflected on his time with Lizzie. After his second bout of brooding, they had a long talk about his family and what happened to them. He answered the few questions that Lizzie had about the murders and then she shocked him by asking him to tell her stories on how they met, where they lived, what she did and other details about their lives together. He was hesitant at first; afraid that she would compare herself to his wife or that she would think less of herself because she couldn't give him a child. She was adamant, so he began with how they met and found that the more he spoke of the good memories of his past, the more things he remembered of their life together. The details were coming back to him and he started remembering them more as they lived rather than how they died.

Lizzie's presence in his life was a balm to his soul. She was healing the long festering wounds of his past and helping him to rediscover the man he was before he became Red. He also saw some of her wounds from the past healing, but there was one that she had mentioned to him only once - her inability to have children. She had never brought it up again, even while discussing his own child and he chose not to question her on it because of the sadness that flashed across her features every time there was mention of a child. She was always quick to school her features and was able to hide it from everyone, but not from him. His curiosity was piqued about why she couldn't have children, but his burden was to help her heal the hurt from that wound as she had done for him on so many levels. He figures that she wasn't borne that way because do the reluctance to say anything about it and he often had to stop himself from imagining what happened to her. He decided that it was time to confront her and push the issue a little. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by the feel of her palms gliding down his back then encircling his waist as she embraced him, humming softly with pleasure. He placed his hands over hers and reveled in the warmth of the sun and the proximity of her body. He couldn't imagine returning to his solitary lifestyle now and that thought pleased and scared him in equal measures. So quickly he had become dependent on her for companionship, support, friendship, and love. All the things he swore that he would never allow himself to feel.

"What's going through that brilliant mind of yours, Ray?"

"I was thinking of you, as I most always do, and of us. How we got here. How much you have done for me. How easy it has been to let go of Red and learn who _I_ am again."

He turned in her arms and held her face in his hands, holding her gaze and letting her see his sincerity.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Lizzie."

His brow furrowed as she frowned and shook her head.

"No, Raymond. Your wife and child were and they deserve to be. Family is a gift, my love, and they were to you."

Her words were tender and her frown dissolved into a small smile. God he loved this woman before him. She was right, of course, and he didn't mean for it to sound like he didn't hold them in a place of honor.

"Let me qualify my remark then, and say that you are the best thing that has happened to me since they were taken from me."  
He returned her smile and kissed her soundly. He still couldn't believe that this was all real, but was grateful everyday that he woke up beside her. He gazed at her and his mind went back to the issue of her infertility with the mention of his family.

"That, kind sir, is a compliment that I am pleased to accept. But something else is on your mind isn't it? Something troubling if I'm not mistaken."

He lead her back to the deck chairs and moved them so they would be facing each other.

"Please sit. Something is troubling me Lizzie and it has been since the day we first made love together."

She started to bristle and he put his fingers over her mouth.

"Hear me out before you get upset. I haven't said anything up until now because I was respecting your boundaries as you had mine. Okay?"

He moved to take her hands in his and felt the tension drain from her. She nodded and he suspected that she knew what was coming, so he continued.

"You told me that you can't have children, but never said anything further. I had hoped that in time you would tell me why, so I didn't ask. Since then, you have done so much for me in dealing with my past and healing old wounds that I thought would never cease to cause me pain. I'm so grateful for everything you have done, Lizzie. Then I watch the flicker of sadness cross your face when you mention my family or see a child and I die a little inside watching you suffer alone when you've done so much for me."

He watched her as she stood up before him and took off her t-shirt. She took his hand and placed it on the small tattoo she had just over her pelvic area and under her belly button. He traced the lines of the tattoo, which was a small black lined phoenix rising out of orange flames, but failed to note anything out of the oridnary. He looked at her for guidance and she traced his finger over a small scar that was hidden in the negative space between flames.

"I got the tattoo to hide the scar, even though it is small, because I'd rather answer questions about the tattoo than the scar it hides. It even escaped your notice, which was the plan. I was 12 when I got the scar and 17 when I begged my mother to get the tattoo to hide it because everyone who saw it asked how I got it. She agreed and chose a tattoo artist. We chose the image together and after several sessions with the artist, we agreed on a final look. She went with me and it hurt like hell, but it was worth it every time I got a compliment on the tattoo instead of a quiz on my scar."

Her fingers teased his scalp as he leaned forward, pressed kisses to her abdomen, and traced the lines of the tattoo with his tongue. He had figured the tattoo was representative of her rising above the adversity in her life, but had no idea it was connected to her inability to have children. He stopped and looked up at her, noting the single tear sliding down her cheek.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He tensed when she snapped at him and pulled away, crossing her arms and turning away from him.

"Do I have a choice?"

Taking her shirt in hand, he stood and turned her around. He placed it over her head and helped her put it back on. He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. He felt as if he failed her, but wouldn't get angry at her for her reaction. He knew it was a sensitive subject for her and wasn't near as adept at these things as she was. He decided she wasn't ready and wouldn't push her any further today, but was disappointed.

"You always have a choice, Lizzie. I'm sorry I've upset you. It certainly wasn't my intention to do so."

He watched her closely and when he saw no change in her demeanor, he dropped his hands and turned to leave.

"I'm going to check on a few things. Let me know when you are ready for lunch. I thought we might eat outside today, if that is agreeable."

"Ray." 

He heard her, but she still had the sharpness in her tone and he thought it better to leave her to calm down. 

"Take the time you need...I'll be upstairs."

"Wait, please."

Her voice dropped to a whisper and had a quality he hadn't heard from her before. He turned back to her and stumbled as she threw herself into his embrace. She clung to him almost desperately, which concerned him.

"I'm sorry, Ray. I shouldn't have spoken that way to you. I should've told you the whole story when it came up. I just..."

He pulled back slightly, frowning at the sadness and regret she displayed.

"I understand, Lizzie, I really do. I was a little disappointed, but I get it."

She took his hand and led him back to where they were sitting. They both sat down. He settled in the chair patiently waiting and she sat on the edge of the chair closer to him.

"I was twelve when it happened. My dad was a closet drinker and rarely drank at home during my early childhood. He started coming home drunk when I was seven, but most of the time he just passed out on the couch or in his room. The first time that I heard him raging at my mother, I was nine. They rarely yelled in the house at all, so I wasn't used to it. Terrified, I would go in my room, plug my ears and hum songs I knew to try and drown them out. As his drinking got worse, the fighting got worse. No longer confined to their bedroom they would fight all the time and I don't even think they registered I was there anymore. I learned to tolerate it and as I got older, tuned them out by leaving the house or going to my room to listen to music. The first time he hit her, I was eleven and shocked when I heard sound of the slap. After the apologies and drama, he changed for a while. It was almost as if the man he was came back from vacation. Everything was back to normal."

She paused and took a deep breath. He moved his chair to be closer to her and took her hand in his, stroking it with his thumb as he waited for her to continue.

"Three days after I turned twelve, he showed up after work drunk. They were fighting in the living room and he had my mom pinned to a wall, brandishing the fireplace poker. I screamed no and ran towards him to stop him and he turned. I ended up impaling myself on the poker. My uterus was so damaged they told my mother that I would never have my own children. She told me what the doctors said, but I didn't really understand the impact until I was 16. When I got out of the hospital, my dad had moved out at my mother's demand. She told him to move out or she would press charges and the rest is history."

He stood up and pulled her into his arms. She has told him the what and the how, but it doesn't really explain the why completely. She's had plenty of time to come to terms with this, although he expected the bitterness and resentment to linger, and when he had watched her from afar there was no sadness when she encountered children. In fact, a couple of her college friends had kids and she often took them to the park. Something changed between then and now, but was it important enough to push her harder than he already had? He thought so.

"That's not all, is it?"

She sighed and met his eyes once again.

"I was okay with it for a long time, figuring that if I ever wanted to have a family I could adopt. And that's what Tom and I planned, but somewhere in the process of seeing the children without parents and young girls pregnant willing to give up their children it started to bother me that I couldn't bear my own child. All these people could have children that didn't want them and I wanted one so desperately and couldn't have one...it didn't seem fair. I let go of my resentment toward my father a few years ago, but a new resentment took root and began to grow. The more I got involved at work and learned of Tom's betrayal, I put a stop to the process but the resentment still lingered."

She began shifting her feet and would no longer meet his eyes. She was still holding something back from him, out of embarrassment it would seem. He knew how hard it was for her to open up about things all too well and wished that he could put her at ease like she did with him.

"My dear, it isn't resentment that crosses your features, it's sadness."

She buried her head in the crook of his neck and mumbled something he couldn't make out. He held her close, then pulled away to look at her and silently beg her to come clean with whatever it was so they could move forward.

"I'm sad because I wouldn't be able to have your child if that's what you desired. I'm damaged, Ray, beyond repair and I was...I am afraid that you will leave me if or when you decide that's what you want. Especially now that your lifestyle is changing and you would be able to start a new family."

His heart broke for her. She obviously felt inadequate and must have compared herself to his first wife who had bore his child. That's exactly what he didn't want when he told her of his past life.

"Lizzie, look at me."

She dragged her eyes up to meet his.

"You are everything I want, Elizabeth and I love you. I fell in love with you and I honestly only considered children in the context of what you would want. As I told you before, I had a family and it was ripped away from me. I never thought I would have the chance to love again and he we are, together as lovers and partners. All I want from you, Lizzie, is to love and be loved. I never came into this expecting you to be a baby factory. If you feel that you don't want children, I am good with that. If you decide you want to think about adoption again, I would be open to discussing it with you. If you want to see a doctor to be reevaluated, I would support you 100% and make sure you have access to the best doctors and care. We're in this together, love, don't forget that."

He kissed her and pulled her back into his arms to soothe away the doubts she had about herself. He hoped that by finally talking with him about it, she would be able to accept his love for what it was and stop comparing herself to the memory of his past.

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"There's naught to be sorry about."

"I'm sorry for not confiding in you about this. I'm always trying to get you to open up to me and I kept this to myself. It's not fair to you."

"I'm not keeping score. I know how hard it is to open and and trust after so many years of not trusting anyone. I'm glad that you finally told me."

He enjoyed the moment with her as she kissed him, taking her time and exploring familiar territory as she moved along his jaw and down to his collarbone. He pulled her body flush to his and let his hands wander the curves of her back and ass. He felt her hands slide in his back pockets as she held him to her and continued suck and nip at his flesh. Feeling randy, he tugged her shirt off and tossed it on the chair and started on her bra. Following his lead, she worked the buttons on his shirt and let it flutter to the ground. He guided her to the edge of the pool where they both stripped off their own pants and underwear. She finished before him, as she had no shoes on, so he was able to enjoy the view as she dove into the heated pool. He remained where he was, transfixed by the image of her moving gracefully through the water until she splashed him and beckoned him to join her.

He used the ladder to enter the pool, preferring to let his body adjust to the temperature of the water gradually though it was heated. Lizzie was there as he turned and sat on the top of the ladder, not giving him warning before she took his member into her mouth. He gasped for air as her mouth sent wave after wave of pleasure through his body and all the blood rushing to his member. He braced himself by putting his arms through the bars and let his hands find purchase in her hair. On the verge of orgasm, he stopped her and joined her in the water. There were two benches built into each corner of the deep end of the pool, where he would often sit and let the jets work on his back muscles. He had something else in mind and guided her over, pinning her to the wall and kissing her. She held herself in place by winding one arm around his neck and used her other to grasp his hard on and stroke him. Wanting more of her, he helped her up on the bench and spread her legs, opening her to him. He trailed kisses along the insides of her thighs before he settled in and tasted her. He took his time and brought her to the brink a couple times before he brought her over the edge, loving to see the effect he had on her. She rejoined him in the pool and wrapped her legs around him, guiding him into her. There was something exhilarating about having sex outdoors and it intoxicated them. It wasn't long before they both reached their climax and disentangled themselves, both content to float on their backs holding hands.

The mix of her scent and the warm water brought him back to the first weekend they spent as lovers. He was so sure that she would leave him, he had taken every opportunity to pleasure her, even when he was spent with no hope of rebound. She had awoken long dormant feelings and emotions, so much so the weekend was a renaissance for him. Intimacies he had denied himself were now an everyday occurrence, which left him feeling whole again and yet extremely vulnerable. It would be easy to slip into complacency and in some ways they already had, especially with their biweekly jaunts across Europe. He frowned as he continued to analyze their patterns and realized just how easily they had slipped into normal routines. Angry at himself, he left her side and got out of the pool. He grabbed a towel out of the cabinet and wound it around his waist. He held hers out, seeing her approach and turned to go get dressed once she took it from him.

"Ray?"

He heard the question in her voice and stopped. He turned back to her and was momentarily confused by the look of hurt and sadness on her face. It finally dawned on him that he basically just fucked her and left her after she had confessed her insecurity about their relationship.

"I'm so sorry, Lizzie. I was thinking in the pool about the first weekend we spent together and how great it has been since. I realized, though, that I have become far too careless with our safety and was going to talk to Dembe about switching things up more and relocating. I should have said something before I left you."

"It's okay. I just wasn't sure what happened."

He felt her sigh of relief as he held her, all the while mentally kicking himself for being so oblivious to her.

"Why don't you sit here and soak up the afternoon rays and I'll have lunch brought out to us, after I find Dembe. He can join us for lunch and we can brainstorm on how we need to change things up."

She smirked at him, kissed him on the lips and whispered in his ear.

"I thought you would go and take care of all this yourself. I like this way better."

"You're my partner now, Lizzie, in all things. I wouldn't have it any other way. I am sorry about earlier..."

"I know. I'll wait for you out here."

He watched as she dressed again and settled in the deck chair; her air of confidence back in full force. She grabbed her Kindle off the table and waved to him before her attention was drawn away. He smiled at her, then strode into the chateaux to find Dembe. As he approached the staircase, he saw a note on the table. Apparently, Dembe had gone into town to restock on some supplies. He strode upstairs to shower and change, after leaving word with the kitchen staff to prepare lunch for three to be taken outside.

After a 30 minute shower, which was much longer than necessary but served to delay lunch until Dembe's return, Red shaved and dressed. He dialed into his voicemail service from the satellite phone, finding there were no messages. He would be able to discontinue the service in another few months once the remainder of his past life was tied up and put behind them.

As he was coming down the stairs, he heard Dembe at the door and met him to see if he needed help. He got a rundown of the supplies bought and a report of no unusual activity other than a report of a stranger in the local market. Hearing this, Ray felt it wise to relocate in the next few days. He mentioned his concerns to Dembe and asked him to join them for lunch. He excused himself to clean up, while Ray went to the kitchen to see the progress on their meal. Satisfied with the preparations, he grabbed a glass of lemonade and went back out to Lizzie.

Red sat down at the table, sipping his glass of lemonade and enjoying the view. A few moments later, Dembe joined him and the staff brought out the food. Assuming Lizzie had gone in the house, he sat back and the two men reminisced about their time together in the Middle East. Unsure of where Lizzie was, Red excused himself and went upstairs to their bedroom to look for her. Finding no sign of her, he started going through the house looking for her and questioning the few staff members they employed. Worry started to set in when he realized that no one had seen her since he left her by the pool.

"I can't find her..."

He breezed by Dembe and strode over to the chair where she had been laying down. Her towel was on the ground, not on the chair where she left it and the Kindle was gone. He thought for a moment that he might be overreacting and bent over to pick up the towel and place it on the back of the chair, when the device clattered to the ground. His stomach turned as he picked it up, knowing instinctively that something was very wrong. Dembe joined him and he looked at his friend and protector, who mirrored his concern.

"I'll go pull up the surveillance footage."

"Your discretion with our activities prior to her disappearance is appreciated."

Dembe nodded and left. He held the towel up to his face and breathed in the scent of chlorine mixed with her own. His body trembled as the fear, anger and adrenaline coursed through his system. He knew instinctively that she was gone and he was certain it was to get to him. The crushing weight of guilt and responsibility for her current situation rendered him immobile. He dropped to his knees, allowing himself time to shed the weakness of the emotions coursing through his soul. A howl of pain ripped from his body, followed by heaving sobs. As the tide of emotion ebbed, he mentally suited up in the armor he had cast aside for her and sent the man back into the dungeon. Raymond did not protect her. Raymond could not save her. Raymond is no more.

Red stood up, wiped his face and took a deep breath. He bent over to pick up the Kindle and left the towel where it lay on the ground. Someone dared to take the most precious thing in his life and he would unleash Satan himself from the eternal flames of Hell if it meant getting Lizzie back safely. He went inside to change and meet with Dembe. They had work to do.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a transition into another fic. I'm working on it now and will put it with this one as a series when it's ready to be published. Not sure why things ended up this way, but the rabbit took off and I had to chase it.


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